tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22878812457956508102016-09-07T23:28:52.127-05:00Yo-Hah!An exclamation of pleasureSchmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.comBlogger124125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-20533089361096044292013-02-07T11:30:00.000-06:002013-02-07T13:50:13.100-06:0015ish monthsPB is awesome. I remember reading blogs of other moms who said, every month, "this is my favorite age!" and I'm seeing how that feels. Every new thing is fun.<br /><br /><b>Size:</b> He's still holding steady in the 90th-95th percentile for everything. At his 15 month appointment, the pediatrician noted that he's as tall as a two-year old.&nbsp; <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>The short answer is: basically, all real food. 3 meals and two snacks a day, with cow's&nbsp; milk or water to drink. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><br />The longer/mammary answer is:&nbsp; He nurses once a day now, in the mornings. This was entirely his choice: some time around when he turned 15 months old, he suddenly acted offended when I offered him a nursing session at bedtime. It was kind of weird, but I mentioned it to my mom and she said something similar happened with her - all three of her kids moved down to one nursing session around the 15-month mark, and then weaned around 16-17 months. (Interestingly, I'm the only one who chose a morning nurse - my siblings both opted for bedtime. PB's like me!) So we changed up his bedtime routine. Now, once he's in his pajamas, we read a few storybooks and sing a song, rather than nurse. I just took on a volunteer gig that keeps me out past PB's bedtime one evening a week, and it's kind of nice to not worry about whether there's breastmilk in the fridge and when I have to pump. (It's also nice to volunteer again, after a long time - but that's another story).<br /><br />One nursing session a day is nice. I feel like we can still connect a little before I leave for work, when PB is at his just-woke-up snuggliest. I'm simultaneously feeling a little sad about weaning - he could decide any day that he doesn't want the milk any more - but also looking forward to it. I haven't had a weekend morning when I could<i> just sleep in</i> since he was born. But the tradeoff will be that we're not nursing any more, so I'm happy to wait a few more weeks, or months, for that. My mental cutoff point is age two, but I'll be very&nbsp; surprised if he's still nursing in October. Again, I've got mixed emotions about that thought: my baby is growing up, but I'm proud of us for sticking through the tough first months and going this long. <i>&nbsp; </i><br /><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills:</span> PB can now climb up on the couch and our living room chair on his own, and he climbs off backwards, which is great. I think he's starting to try to figure out how to climb out of his crib, but between the height and slippery finish of the crib, and the fact that he sleeps in a sleep sack, I think we're safe. For at least 5 more minutes.<br /><br /></div><b>Teeth:</b> Holding steady at whatever the number is. 14? Not sure. He still hasn't cut his canines so he has these cute gaps in his teeth. We're working on teaching him to use a toothbrush, with moderate success. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys:</span> DH and I had been pondering getting a teddy bear for a little while, and this week DH found one. PB is in love with his "beeeeeeear!" He also loves playing with his small green playground bouncy ball, the variety of cool wooden Plan Toys he got for Christmas, and the electronic keyboard DH sometimes sets up for him - he bangs away at the keys. We also got something packaged in a cardboard poster tube, and that was the most fantastic multi-purpose toy ever for a few days.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>One of the greatest recent developments is that PB understands simple questions and commands. "Where is the ball?" sends him off on the search, and he returns with his ball. "Let's go upstairs for lunch" should only be said if you already standing at the base of the stairs, because he'll try to tear the gate down if you aren't fast enough. Last weekend, using simple commands, I made up a simplified version of basketball with a laundry basket: I would dribble the ball across the room and pass it to PB, and he'd toss it in the basket and we'd all cheer. He's happy to join in on new games with made up rules for as long as his brief attention span allows... but often he toddles away for a moment and then comes back for round two. <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WORDS! </span>This is why I really wanted to write this all down. PB's definitely talking, and I think we're almost on the cusp of a word explosion. Words he has right now: dada, mama (though he called me "baba" for a while when I had a bad cold over the holidays), cheese (a distinctive sound, rather than a word, but we know exactly what he means), oink, quack, bow wow (sounds are used to indicate the animal making them), ball, bear ("beeeeeeeeer!"), water (sort of, it's the sign for water combined with "wa wa wa wa"), bowl, bye-bye, bottle (bockle-bockle-bockle-bockle), truck (a growling motor sound). "Lalala" means it's time to read a Sandra Boynton book (<u>Moo,Baa, Lalala</u> is a favorite). This morning he said "nana" while signing for a banana, so I think that's on the horizon, and DH said that yesterday they were eating some canned fruit and PB was working on an f sound, trying to say "fruit". The adorable lip-buzzing that he did as a smaller baby is back - I think he's working out how to form sounds of different words. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>He's also signing all the time: eat/food/hungry, milk, water, potty (no real action, but he likes to sit on it and read books), banana (he made up his own sign - looks just like an NFL ref declaring a touchdown), itsy bitsy spider - he learned this at the library at story time last week, and DH and I now both sing it roughly four thousand times a day. Also, he points to his head to indicate I should sing "head, shoulders knees and toes". He picks up a book and pats his chest to command "read to me". He'll stand in place and bop his bottom up and down if he wants to dance to some music, which is sort of a sign. If you say "itchy itchy!" he will pretend to scratch his tummy, a la the itchy iguanas in the Sandra Boynton ABC book. He sometimes signs "thank you", also. <br /><br />He knows quite a few body parts, too: ears, nose, fingers, tummy, bellybutton, head, hair, teeth.&nbsp; <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>A few things happened at once with PB over the past month or so: he dropped the morning nap, he dropped the bedtime nursing session, and his night sleep patterns shifted. He's started waking up REALLY early some mornings - sometimes before 5:30am. Most of the time he's content to just chat with the stuffed monkey that stays in the crib with him until I come in at 6:30-6:45ish to nurse him and start the day. One morning this week, I heard him chatting around 5:45, but I went back to sleep. When my alarm went off at 6:45, PB had fallen back asleep! So I let him snooze until 7:15 - I made some coffee and got some of my work stuff packed up in the interim.<br /><br />We shuffled his bed time a little later, to 7:30/7:45ish, but that hasn't seemed to help the early wakeups. It's not a huge deal, especially since he's so content. His afternoon nap is getting fairly consistent: usually 1pm - 3:30pm. One nap per day opens up the mornings so DH and PB can do fun stuff like library story time and other adventures, which is nice for everyone.<br /><br />Overall, PB is a lot of fun at this age. It's so fun to watch him learn! <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-28557439774939309412012-11-12T11:30:00.000-06:002012-11-16T22:36:12.104-06:0012 months/ 1 yearI started this in October and then - well, it's a little late. But it still happened, so here:&nbsp; <br /><br />1 year. ONE YEAR. That seems wrong in both directions - how have I only known this kid for a year? But at the same time, how is he already a one-year-old?<br /><br />At the end of September, PB figured out walking. It was a pretty amazing development: on Sunday afternoon he was taking one or two tentative steps. By Thursday he would walk about 10 steps, stop, turn around, and walk back! It was one of the first times I have felt like I am really missing out on his development by working away from home, as I was rushing home each evening to see how much he's pieced together. PB loves walking, and it's been fun to watch him figure it out. For the most part he's in shoes or socks, because he's supposed to be wearing those soft-bottomed shoes while his feet get strong, but his feet are TOO BIG. Once you get to a size shoe that fits him (baby shoe size 5), those only come in hard-bottomed shoes because no 12-month-old would have feet that big.<br /><br />When we made this discovery, I was with DH and his mom at a Carter's store. His mom laughed one of those sympathetic laughs while DH just said, "I think you need to get used to this problem..."<br /><br />So my son is like a puppy in every way, including his overly large paws.<br /><br />For his first birthday, we had a party at our house: just family and his godmother, but it would up being 17 people. PB is so social that he was kind of buzzed all day, since he woke up in the morning to his grandparents and aunt who had all come in the day before. He took a too-short nap because he didn't want to miss out on anything, I think. He totally didn't get what the presents were about, so DH and I sat on the floor of the living room, opening things and trying to get PB's attention while he checked out all the people there: all four of his grandparents, two great-grandparents, a great-aunt and -uncle, two aunts, two uncles, one brand-new cousin, and his godparents.<br /><br />So he really didn't care about the gifts. But we were happy about them: a new car seat since he was getting completely scrunched in the old one, a variety of musical instruments, a pile of new books (still no repeats! This amazes me) and a few other cool toys and things. Once he got a hold of his Cubs baseball bat he wanted to hold on to it for a while, which pleased the Cubs fans at the party and made the Sox fans grumble (I am from Ohio, and thus claim agnosticism on this front).<br /><br />PB's first cake experience was fun - what I caught of it. I made an <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/blog/2010/10/spiced-applesauce-cake/">applesauce spice cake with cinnamon cream cheese frosting</a> - the perfect autumn cake - and we cut a slice for PB because I am not about to bake a separate "smash cake" for a one year old. I think that's weird and wasteful.<br /><br />PB did what he often does with a new experience and spent a moment studying the cake. Then he poked his finger in to the frosting and found the seam between the two layers. I helped pull the two layers apart, and then he started to get the picture and picked up a large hunk of cake and took a tentative bite. About that time DH told me I should serve cake to everyone else, and I regret that I listened to him - I should have delegated that to someone else. I had just walked in to the kitchen to start slicing the cake when the whole living room cheered. I missed him actually smashing the cake. <br /><br />That seems dumb, but it was PB's first cake, and I baked it. I'm the cake-baker in the family and cake kind of matters to me. And anyway, I wanted to see him smash it. Not a mistake I'll make again.<br /><br />Anyway, the party went well, we got some family pictures, and PB was so exhausted at the end of it that the last guest left at 6pm and he was unconscious in his crib before 7.<br /><br />Now... on to the stats!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>25 pounds, 11 ounces (95th percentile)<br /><br /><b>Length:</b> 31 inches (90th percentile)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating:</span> He's nursing at bedtime and in the morning. Otherwise, I am now not really pumping any more (Hallelujah!). He gets a little bottle of breastmilk with his vitamins, but that's usually thawed stuff from the freezer stash. We made the transition to cow's milk and he likes it just fine. Also, he now eats cake when given the opportunity (He's only gotten the opportunity one other time - at his uncle Jon's birthday the weekend after his). We also tried peanut butter - no reaction, thankfully. And he can now eat honey, so graham crackers have made it in to the rotation. They are a hit. <br /><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>He wants to practice walking all the time, and we let him! He has also figured out things like how to climb up on his new little chair and then stand on it to reach things on the windowsill. <br /><br /></div><b>Teeth: </b>8 teeth total. Chewing a lot so maybe more to come soon...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>He's getting more in to stuffed animals - he likes to talk to them and hand them to you. We pretend they're kissing him, which he thinks is funny. <br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>He has a wide variety of syllables, and is frequently mimicking tones he hears (even things like the squeak of the refrigerator door). He says "ooh" a lot while he points at things, and he has a particular sound he makes when he sees a dog: kind of like a barking sound. But no real words just yet, I don't think. <br />&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>Pointing, mimicking, clapping, and more and more dancing - he bops up and down in the cutest way when he hears a tune or some rhythm. He also likes playing with musical instrument toys, especially if one of his parents is trying to play something. Also: this has been brewing for a while, but he and I like to chase each other around the couch (I have to crawl so he can't see me over the couch, now that he's walking!). He thinks chasing me is fun, but when I turn around and very quickly run up to him from the front, he shrieks laughing - I think he likes being startled that way. He's also starting to play peekaboo himself, holding a hat or something over his eyes so we ask "where's PB?". And he has started doing this hammy hug thing, especially when he's sleepy, where he'll walk up to you and rest his head on you. Melts me every time. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>Now that it's colder we got him some large-size fleece sleep sacks because we keep the house pretty cool at night. Overnight, he's been sleeping like a champ - I think it helps that he's snuggly but the room is cool. The sleep sacks seem to help for naps, too, though we're still in this transitional period: two naps or one? Each day is a crapshoot. <br /><br />And speaking of crapshoot, the potty experiment continues. I think it will be many months before there's anything consistent to report, but we're all still having a good time with it. Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-45665181338481971102012-09-24T11:37:00.000-05:002012-09-27T11:39:50.074-05:0011 monthsThis morning, I walked in to PB's room and he stood up in his crib when he saw me. He'd been relaxing and babbling to himself, already awake but not feeling impatient. He reached up for me and I hefted him up and had the same thought I've been having each morning for the last couple of weeks: you're not a baby any more. PB is big. Picking him up is not like picking up a baby, it's like picking up a little kid. And now we're a few weeks away from a first birthday party, and he's starting to take steps and he's approximating words, and he's so much more like a walking, talking toddler than a little lump of a baby.<br /><br />I don't get sad about this the way I thought I would. When I <i>anticipate </i>changes in him, I do get sad: I still remember thinking "I know I'm going to miss his gummy smile" when he'd beam at me around three months old. But then each thing I love about him gets replaced with something of equal or greater loveability. His toothy smile is adorable, and I love the way he plays with his teeth when he's eating, trying to chew a sweet pea with just his three lower teeth, for instance.<br /><br />As we prepare to cross that one-year threshold, I find myself doing a lot more looking forward and a lot less looking back than I expected that I would. PB will always be my baby boy, even when he's 6'4" tall and can pick <i>me </i>up. So he doesn't have to remain an infant.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>According to the scale at home, roughly 26 pounds.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length: </span>Tall.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>He nurses in the morning and at bedtime. On weekdays he has three 5-ish ounce bottles during the day. And then he has 3 meals and the occasional afternoon snack. On weekends we still basically nurse on demand, bit it's about the same: 4 or 5 times a day, total. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>He's practically walking. He will take about 2 steps unsupported, from the table to the couch, for instance. Much more than that and he falls down... which means he falls down all. the. time. I've seen him get frustrated about it a couple of time, which is a sign that he's about to take off, I think. If he wants to get somewhere in a hurry, he crawls, but he is really working hard on the walking.<br /><br />He's also getting better at doing things like taking apart his Mega Blocks and he's starting to figure out how to put them together.<br /><br /><br /></div><b>Teeth: </b>That fourth one on the bottom still hasn't shown up.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>The remote control (DH found an old remote and took out the batteries, so now he plays with that), mega blocks, anything with wheels. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>He's playing with sounds a lot these days. Over Labor Day weekend, DH's mom was in town so we left PB with her for a day while we painted our kitchen (this was something we needed to do before the days started getting darker - the kitchen is so much brighter now!). Then we went to visit with various in-laws for a while after a long day of painting. When we walked in to the room, PB was standing up in front of a chair and looked at me, smiled, and yelled, "MAMA". The whole room stopped, and then everyone repeated it: "mama! He said mama." So I think that counts. He's also had a few moments with me when he's said (and, I think, asked for) "dada" or "daddy". Once was at bedtime about a week ago when I was nursing him. He heard footsteps in the hall outside his room, and he stopped nursing for a moment to listen, then looked at me and said, "daddy", and pointed toward his door. That level of comprehension and communication is pretty cool to see.&nbsp; &nbsp; <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>I do think "mama" is sometimes his sound for milk, and sometimes for me, but half the time the desire for the two is basically the same thing. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br />&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>PB likes to point at things, and sometimes he'll point just so DH or I will turn to where he's pointing. He's mimicking us a lot these days, including doing a big, loud fake laugh if we laugh at something. So, sometimes I just fake laugh to make him fake laugh.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>It got much cooler this week, and PB started pretty consistently sleeping through the night, 7:30pm to 6:30am, once it cooled down. I'm not sure if the correlation indicates causation, but I'm sure cooler weather and snuggly pajamas don't hurt. Except for one recent rough night (teeth? Overstimulation because my parents were staying with us? A random day? Who knows?) last weekend, he's sleeping either all night long or with one wakeup at 5am for nursing.&nbsp; <br /><br />His naps have just shifted completely: about a week and a half ago, DH told me he put PB down for his morning nap, and the kid just didn't sleep. By the normal time of his afternoon nap, he was beat. After a couple of days of transition, PB is now down to one nap that starts around 11:30 or noonish and is generally around 3 hours long (unless he poops himself awake, which happened yesterday). This has shifted our schedule so we can't really be out and about at lunch time any more, but that isn't a huge deal.<br /><br /><b>New category! Potty time: </b>We know a couple of people who have done the potty training boot camp 3 day process, and it sounded both exhausting and ineffective. One of the moms involved said potty training (using the 3-day program) was the absolute worst thing about parenting for her. So I asked myself: "what is the opposite of that approach?" and without too much effort I found a wealth of information about what is variously called Elimination Communication or Early Potty Training or the like. We checked out <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Diaper-Free-Before-Healthier-Toilet-Diapers/dp/0307237095">Diaper Free Before Three</a> from the library, and DH and I both read it. We like the approach and the philosophy fits with our lives. So we're trying it.<br /><br />Side note: My mother has already pretty much told me I'm stupid for doing this, but I think she sees this as a referendum on how she potty trained us. Note to grandparents: it's not. There's more than one way to parent and most of them are fine. <br /><br />Anyway, the gist of this is, we have a little potty chair (like <a href="http://www.amazon.com/BabyBj%C3%B6rn-051021US-BABYBJORN-Smart-Potty/dp/B002Q0YA30/ref=sr_1_8?s=baby-products&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1348175940&amp;sr=1-8">this one</a>) and a few weeks ago we started sitting PB on the potty a few times a day when we change his diaper. This is nice because it gives one the chance to tidy up a bit and prepare the clean diaper while PB sits and "reads" a book or plays with a toy. In his usual easygoing fashion, he enjoys sitting on the potty. He's taken a pee in the potty a few times now, and each time he's been praised, but there's really no pressure to do anything at this stage in the game: we're just getting him comfortable with the potty and showing him that this is what folks do in the bathroom. (We had already moved his whole diaper-changing station in to the bathroom, so we were unwittingly primed for this)<br /><br />Frankly, if we do things this way and it takes a year and a half to have him fully "trained", that is completely cool by me, because this doesn't feel like training, it's just establishing another pleasant little routine in PB's day (The book claims kids will be fully trained by 18 months! But the book was written to... sell books). My aim is to avoid tantrums, battles, screaming, and feces everywhere, all of which is the experience of folks I know who have done (and redone and re-re-done) the boot camp thing. So, pleasant potty time is here for now, and I suspect it's for keeps in our household. &nbsp; Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-86566317678136577682012-08-27T11:00:00.000-05:002012-08-27T15:54:31.579-05:0010 monthsI have a new nephew! This means that PB had only 10 months to be the new grandchild for my parents. Now my brother's son is the newbie, and PB has to prepare to teach his cousin the ways of the world.<br />&nbsp;<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>I'm presuming around 24 pounds. Definitely still hefty.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length: </span>No appointment this month, so I'm not sure. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>These days, PB generally nurses in the morning (every other night or so, he's up around 5am to nurse and then go back to sleep. Otherwise he's up around when my alarm goes off - 6:30 or so - for the day), has breakfast with us, has some milk before his morning nap, eats lunch with whoever is around, has milk again before his afternoon nap, has another bottle around 4:30, eats dinner with us and then nurses before bed at night. His solid meals are becoming more complete, but he's definitely still getting much of his nutrition from milk.<br /><br />Except for avoiding things made with nuts and honey (ahem - my extended in-laws must have missed ALL the memos, as they fed my child Honey Nut Cheerios when we were all on vacation together. Fortunately he neither had an allergic reaction nor contracted botulism but I was pretty pissed), we're mostly just feeding him whatever we're eating, or modified versions of the same. Except for tuna salad, he hasn't acted like there's any food he won't eat. (And he even ate that, just not much of it).&nbsp; <br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>He's downright graceful with getting himself up to a standing position, and more and more frequently he will forget himself: holding a book or a toy while he's standing, not supporting himself on anything. There have been a couple of instances when he's half-stumbled-half-stepped from the chair to the couch in our living room. He also likes to bop up and down to music, which I'm sure is not just adorable (though it truly is) but is also making his legs even stronger. <br /><br />Besides working on those pre-walking skills, he's just getting better at getting in to EVERYTHING. I bought a pack of cabinet door locks and really need to get them installed, because opening cabinet doors and removing all the contents is PB's idea of a party.<br /><br />He crawls <i>very quickly</i>. One of our new favorite games is chasing each other around the couch. Sometimes PB and I just stake out on opposite ends of the couch, giggling uncontrollably while we're hiding from each other. Then one of us hears the other one's giggles getting closer, and the chase is on! I have had evenings recently when my knees were practically raw after crawling around the couch so many times. PB must have kevlar in his knees or something. </div><div><br /></div><b>Teeth: </b>Seven... or eight? On of his eyeteeth is definitely through. I haven't made visual confirmation of the other one, but I suspect it's there. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>A week ago, there was a town-wide yard sale in the suburb next to ours, and I found the raddest Caterpillar front-loader toy for $3: it's huge and yellow and has giant wheels, and seemed like it had hardly been played with. PB loves it. When we first put it out for him, he lit up and zoomed right over to it.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>He babbles a lot, and often he seems to just be playing with the sound of his voice. One day recently I was walking down the stairs and he was playing in the living room, standing up in front of the couch, and he looked up at me and said, "MOM-EE". Clear as day. DH and I both repeated it back to him: "Did you say 'mommy?' " But I'm still pretty sure he's not actually connecting that word with me. I do think he connects some sounds with us: for a few months he has said "ma-ma-ma-ma" when he's hungry, and he says "dadadada" around DH at times.<br /><br />It makes me wonder: how do people distinguish a kid's actual first word? Because it's clear to me that he's experimenting with syllables and sounds, and taking in to account when we reinforce or repeat certain sounds to him. So eventually "dadadada" will work itself in to "daddy", but I think it's going to be hard to pinpoint the moment when those sounds become a word for him. It's all a lot more gradual than I expected it to be.&nbsp;<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>&nbsp; <br />&nbsp;&nbsp; <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills: </span>He's started doing some direct imitation: this past weekend, DH and I were both drinking Cokes out of bottles. I took a sip of mine and made a refreshed "aaah" sound afterward. Then DH did the same thing. PB watched us with interest, so we both did it again. Then he turned to me and went "hhhaaahhh". It was exceptionally cute. The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon all sounding very refreshed at each other.<br /><br />This past Sunday, PB had breakfast with his grandparents and dinner with his great-grandparents, so there were two meals in the same day when he had an audience of 4. He becomes a complete jibber-jabber box when there is conversation around the dinner table. He hams it up a lot more when there are other people besides his boring parents around: babbling, pretending (briefly) to be shy, holding up pieces of food, clapping... it's quite the show.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>Overall, PB's sleep has been pretty good. He's had his first real cold for the past 5 days or so, and there were a couple of nights of coughing himself awake and wanting to nurse more than usual, but it was all pretty understandable. I think he's over the worst of the cold now, and is just gunky, so he's mostly been sleeping 7:30pm to 6:30ish am, with two naps during the day. <br /><br />Oh yeah, the cold:&nbsp; I always used to think little kids with snotty noses are gross: like, I'd get a little bile-in-the-back-of-the-throat thing when I saw a super-snotted kid. Now I'm basically unfazed by it, and am all about cleaning up that nose. PB is not thrilled about my enthusiasm.&nbsp; <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-23645265691911885772012-07-26T13:00:00.000-05:002012-07-27T15:40:06.196-05:009 monthsPB had his 9-month doctor appointment on Tuesday, and he's huge. He's also awesome.<span style="font-weight: bold;">&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>23 pounds, 11 ounces - 95th percentile<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length: </span>29.5 inches - 90th percentile. He's also in the 95th percentile for head size. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>Lots of solids! We're steadily moving toward a life where PB can just eat what we're eating, with minor modifications - no cow's milk, honey or nut things yet, and limited salt. But each day the solids are getting easier, it seems. We just try to give him a variety of colors and generally some protein, some carbs and lots of fruit and veggies.<br /><br />Acidic things bother him a little bit - I was feeding him a bunch of pineapple (and eating some myself) and then PB was spitting up a lot, all the sudden. DH connected those dots.This makes sense - I haven't been drinking orange juice because he spit up all the time when he was new if I'd have citrus. So I think we need to go easy on the pineapple, too. <br /><br />He is also trying to figure out how to drink from a cup - especially with his stacking cups in the bath tub. I'm pretty sure he's chugged some bath water at this point. Parenting win. I just picked up a couple of straw cups (rated for kids 12-months-plus, but he'll be there soon enough) so we'll see if he likes those. <br /><br />We're still nursing, too. He either nurses or has a bottle 5-6 times in 24 hours. <br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>Lightning-fast crawling, cruising along furniture and baby gates, and wiggling impossibly during diaper changes. This kid is on the move. His pincer grasp is very fine - he can easily pluck an individual pea off the high chair tray and put it in his mouth - and he enjoys taking apart his big Mega Blocks if we put them together. <br /><br />Also, we'd been in the new house for less than 2 weeks when he figured out how to climb stairs and proceeded to climb a whole flight (with DH spotting him) on June 26. DH bought one of those baby corrals the next day. </div><div><br /></div><b>Teeth: </b>SIX. Four of his top teeth came in over the past month. Poor dude had a couple of rough nights, and I dosed him with Tylenol on two different midnights when he was clearly suffering. He's such a trooper... I hate how painful it is for him. We seem to be in a teething pause now, for which I'm thankful. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>This is typical: I was trying to tidy up the baby corral area in the family room, and we had these stackable plastic drawers that I've had since college that have moved with me many times. They didn't have an assigned place, so I put all the random toys in one drawer and the Mega Blocks in another and stacked them up in the corral area one night. The next morning, PB behaved like it was a Christmas Miracle in July, and proceeded to dismantle the entire set of drawers, including flipping over the Mega Blocks drawer so the blocks went everywhere. This is now one of his daily projects: we put everything together overnight, and he takes it all apart in the morning. I feel like the Drawer Fairy or something.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>He's babbling all the time, still a lot of "mamamama", and more of a variety of vowel sounds.&nbsp; <br />&nbsp; <br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span> He has learned how to clap, and if one of us says "yay!" and claps our hands, he busts out a huge smile and claps, too. He also claps when I come home from work in the evening sometimes. This makes my heart explode.<br /><br />We visited our good friends Bro and the Speaker and their little guy, who is 5 months old, last week. PB had a lot of interaction with the other baby and Bro's three pets: two cats and a dog. DH and I are brokenhearted cat people, of course, so we were anxious to see how PB did with the cats. Happily, he LOVED them. When he saw Layla, a tuxedo kitty, he immediately started laughing with excitement. I almost had to go elsewhere and cry because dear departed Corina was a tuxedo kitty and now I'm convinced he would have loved her as much as we did.<br /><br />Bro's pets are really calm and used to a baby - though not one who's quite as mobile as ours - so they were good for him to be around. Their big sweet golden retriever gave him lots of licks on the face, which startled him sometimes, but he seemed to like it.<br /><br />Overall, he's still pretty good with strangers. If we're in a store or something and a random person walks up and talks to him, he's generally pretty quick to smile.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>A couple of weeks ago I decided to try "dream feeding" - nursing him when he's basically still asleep around 10:30 or so before I go to bed. And since I've been doing that (with the exception of a couple of rough teething nights) he's been sleeping through the night: 7:30ish pm to 6:30ish am. Naps are getting fairly consistent: a morning nap of about an hour around 9:30, and a longer afternoon nap in the 1:30-2:00 range.<br /><br />I may regret typing it in public, but I'm less tired these days. I am also, overall, less stressed at the moment, which I think helps with everything. A few weeks ago I had a low-grade fever for several days, and it wasn't until day 3 that I actually realized I was sick and not just exhausted. This kind of scared me. DH and I have been working on some medium-term plans to make sure we don't let ourselves get that overstressed (um, starting with not moving twice and having a baby all within 10 months - that's a poor plan).&nbsp; <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-26543688166122260372012-06-22T11:00:00.000-05:002012-06-25T10:58:08.818-05:008 months<br />Over the last month, we moved. All our stuff is at the new house and we technically live in it, but it's going to be a long while before I feel settled. For the most part, PB handled the transition like a champ, and he had no difficulty settling in to his new room and getting down to the business of exploring all the new space.<br /><br />Also, the new house has central air, just in time for the hottest June around these parts in 40 years. I keep wavering between being grateful and wondering if we're going to raise a spoiled kid who can't live without central air. (I have this concern because I have never lived in a building with central air before and thus presume people who grow up with it are spoiled. This may not be accurate.)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight:&nbsp;</span>22.4 pounds, according to the not-super-accurate scale at home.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length:&nbsp;</span>tall. His next appointment will be at 9 months so we'll see how tall then.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating:&nbsp;</span>I'll admit that there were a few days during the move (which was a two-week-plus project) when PB ate cheerios, puffs and... that's about it. Now that we're settling in, we're being more intentional about the solids, and trying to make sure he gets a bit of protein (so far he's had chicken and turkey and really liked both) and some fruits and veggies. I picked up a pint of sugar snap peas at a farmer's market last week, and he couldn't get enough of them - we spent a pleasant late afternoon sitting on the deck, PB in my lap while I snapped the peas open and handed them to him, one by one. The advantage of this baby-led weaning we're doing is that, at a bit over 7 months old, his pincer grasp is so developed he can pick a pea out of my palm and pop it in his mouth, no trouble. It makes eating at outdoor events really simple.<br /><br />This month he also tried Cheerios for the first through zillionth time, cornbread, some bagel, and a blueberry pancake. He ate the ENTIRE normal-sized pancake!<br /><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br /><span style="background-color: white;">He's still nursing, too, of course. For a few days I was worried that, thanks to the stress of moving, thrush was making a return, as the familiar burn/pain was hitting me on the left side. I still had some APNO on hand and used that after each feeding for a while and it seems to be clearing up, thankfully.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span><br /><span style="background-color: white;">We're trying to get more protein in to him so he's not just eating carbs all the time, so I think we're going to try yogurt soon and see how that goes, and add some beans to the mix. Most of his solid food protein has been from chicken or turkey so far.&nbsp;</span><br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>PB is pulling up on everything and likes to spend his time crawling around, finding places he can stand up. He's getting way more confident with standing: often he'll be holding a toy or reaching for something with one hand while supporting himself with the other - or he'll hold on with two hands and make a march-in-place step. Yikes! This makes for exciting times and the occasional tumble and head bonk, though 9 times out of 10 he catches himself and manages to plop on to his well-padded behind.<br /><br />Despite his obvious trajectory toward walking, his crawling skills have continued to improve, too. He is FAST. It's fun to watch how quickly he can get himself across the room if he sees something (usually sharp or electrical) he wants to play with.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><b>Teeth:&nbsp;</b>Technically, there are still only two. Still. After another MONTH of extreme drooling, constant chewing, and now waking up twice a night again to nurse away what I suspect is gum pain, we have... nothing. DH and I have both noticed a bump in the upper front gums, so I'm presuming that's the culprit. But at the rate it's going I think this tooth will never break through. PB's overall mood has still been happy, though - I think he just spends all day chewing so he doesn't feel too bad.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys:&nbsp;</span>Everything! We've been moving and the house is chaos. Fun toys have included a hand-me-down tea kettle, various cardboard boxes, and anything which will make noise when drummed upon.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills:&nbsp;</span>Still a lot of "mamamama" and "bababa", but we're seeing more and more variety in PB's tone of voice. Lately he's been speaking in this sweet, happy, higher pitched voice. I think it's his coversational tone. It's hard to convey how completely adorable it is. I had him in our bedroom this past weekend while I was trying to sort out our clothes in to the closet. PB was pulling skirts down from hangers and chattering away while he explored the space. It was way too cute to be mad at.<br /><br />Also, this is more of an aural skill, I suppose, but in his bath each night I try to clean his teeth with a washcloth, as recommended by our pediatrician. PB now understands me when I say "let's clean your teeth!" &nbsp;He thinks it's a fun thing to do, so he grins and tries to chomp the washcloth when I say it now. I'm trying to be better about repeating words and phrases when I'm doing things with him, so he'll understand more things like this, but so far that's the only one I've noticed.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span>&nbsp;This past month featured a few social situations that were a &nbsp;lot of fun. PB got to spend a couple of the moving days with his great aunt, who also babysits his 1-year-old cousin. I'll call his cousin Blanche. PB loves Blanche like... like bees loves flowers? I don't know, he just thinks she is the greatest. Since they're only 5 months apart they make good playmates. A big part of the reason we moved was so PB could be closer to the other kids in the family, so this development has been gratifying for us to see.<br /><br />I also went to a picnic wedding reception, just me and PB because DH was working on moving stuff, and PB was such a charmer even though he'd never met anyone there before. It helped that the groom, like DH, has a sizeable beard. I think that put PB at ease.<br /><br />That is one really cute thing: PB loves facial hair, so any man with a beard is automatically getting it tugged - sometimes HARD - when he's close enough.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>This has been on-again, off-again, and I blame the dang teeth. The other night he was awake at 1am and 4am. Both times he nursed and went right back to sleep, and then he slept until almost 7, which was great, but I am tired. My completely made-up theory is that his gums just start to ache after a few hours of not-chewing when he's asleep.<br /><br />I'm also thinking the phrase "I am tired" is just going to be in all these updates. Tired and happy, at least.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-10652674599463621492012-05-31T13:30:00.000-05:002012-05-31T13:30:00.951-05:00So long, DOMA?Let's hope. This looks like some progress from the courts: <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/sns-rt-us-doma-appealbre84u0to-20120531,0,2139658.story">Federal Appeals Court Calls Defense of Marriage Act Unconstitutional</a><br /><br />I don't know if it's the nitty-gritty work DH and I have been doing while we raise an ever-more-mobile tyke and tackle buying a house together, or if it's that our recent method of unwinding at the end of the day has been to catch reruns of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" on Netflix (Oh, Thom. Can you please come decorate my house for me?), but I've been feeling really impatient about this issue lately.<br /><br />If people want to get married, let 'em. End of story. Let's focus our energy on some actual problems.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-37759076630964680082012-05-29T13:57:00.000-05:002012-05-29T13:57:49.374-05:007 months<span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>Around 21 pounds, according to the bathroom scale.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length: </span>we haven't measured, but he's noticeably taller recently. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>Still mostly breastmilk, but he eats solids twice a day most days. We're trying to keep up variety, but his solid diet is heavy on fruit these days. Peaches were recently introduced, and he loved them. I've also been making homemade applesauce with some cinnamon, and that's a hit. He likes working with a spoon: I'll steer the spoon of applesauce toward his mouth, and he'll grab the handle of the spoon and jam it the rest of the way in to his mouth. Then he likes to chew on the spoon for a moment, or use it as a baton/gavel, then attempt to fling it to the ground if the attending parent isn't fast enough.<br /><div><br /></div>We have survived a nursing strike, which was a weird experience. For 5-6 days, he just wouldn't nurse. He'd clearly be hungry, and a few times when I tried to nurse him, he'd get as far as almost latching on, and then he'd just lean back and cry. So for a few days there it was exclusive pumping/bottles. I read somewhere to give a small bottle before an attempted nursing session, and to try to nurse when the kid is sleepy, so at bedtime the last few nights of the strike I'd been giving PB 3 ounces or so in a bottle, and then introducing the breast, which worked. Then one morning on a whim I decided to see if he would nurse normally, and to my surprise he did. After another couple of days, the strike mostly fizzled out. That was weird.<br /><br />But one theory about nursing strikes is that they happen when the baby is reaching some kind of milestone, and he's been going gangbusters on the... <br /><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills. </span>Last month he was "so close" to crawling, and working on sitting up. Now he can:<br /><br />&nbsp;a) &nbsp;sit up for as long as he wants<br />&nbsp;b) &nbsp;crawl - this is now old news for him<br />&nbsp;c) &nbsp;about 1.5 weeks ago he started pulling up on his knees, and<br />&nbsp;d) &nbsp;a few days ago he began pulling up on to his feet.<br /><br />He spends probably a couple of hours a day on his feet now: he just crawls around to different stuff (the couch, the coffee table, a skirt if I'm ever wearing one, and now the boxes that are starting to pile up) to pull himself up. He's so long he can reach anything that's on the couch now, too. We're so close to closing on this new house, and we could really use the space and the freedom to fully babyproof a place!&nbsp;&nbsp; <span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><b>Teeth: </b>Still holding steady at 2, but we're expecting more any day now: PB is always drooling and chewing, and sometimes he seems to be feeling around on his upper gums with his finger. We both keep checking around in there for signs of new chompers, but no evidence yet. The first two popped up quickly after months of chewing and drooling, so I think they just take their time to surface.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>His board books (we stack them up all neat at night, and the first thing he does in the morning is crawl over and pull them all down), especially "That's Not My Bear", the couch (for pulling himself up), the power cord on the laptop and anything else he's not supposed to have. Oh, and most of the other things recently mentioned.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>Still plenty of "mamama" and "bababa", more frequent babbling, especially when he's starting to get a little tired, and plenty of laughing. Sometimes (like when I blow air at the mobile over his changing table and make it move while we're relaxing in the chair in his room) he says, "ooooh", which is (shocker) really cute. He's also getting LOUD - sometimes the babbling is VERY SHOUTY. But it's mostly happy, so that's cool.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span> Still pretty good, though he's shown some signs of stranger anxiety in public situations recently. He's also getting smart about attention: he's starting to do that thing kids do wherein he falls down or bonks his head and then gauges the reaction of the adults around him before he starts crying. Unless I'm in the room, then he just howls. And then I pick him up, because I'm a total sucker.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>Looking back at the 6-month mark, I'm surprised at how used to new patterns I get. He's sleeping through the night every night now: down for bed by 7:30pm, waking up around 6:15am.<br /><br />This is awesome, and I'm used to this... but I'm really tired. When he was waking up at 4am, I'd go nurse him in his dark room and then we'd all go back to sleep. Now that he's up FOR THE DAY at 6ish every morning, relentlessly, I realize I'm just not getting enough sleep. Yes, I'm pretty sure I'm more sleep-deprived now that our kid is sleeping through the night than I was when he wasn't. Of course, there is other stuff going on (all the last-minute house crap, packing for our second move in less than a year, my busiest week of the year at work last week) but I can never sleep in late in the morning (and "late" now is 7am). Ever. Again. For, like, what? 8 years or something? Sigh. And I can't just bring him to bed right when he wakes up, because he's really awake, ready to crawl and climb and babble and shriek, and not even all that hungry right away so he won't snuggle and nurse or anything, he wants to move. <br /><br />I just re-read the last few sentences, and it reads something like "ugh, my baby is so happy and healthy... what a pain!" And I really don't want to be that person. I'm just tired. Very happy and grateful for our unbelievably sweet baby, and tired. I understand this is pretty normal for parents.<br /><br />Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-13888453175496547042012-04-27T15:50:00.001-05:002012-04-27T15:51:20.188-05:006 months<div>SIX MONTHS? Half a year? That was fast. And PB decided to get a lot accomplished in the past month. Meanwhile, everything's still crazy (good crazy! Very good crazy!) with job/housing stuff, so I am yet again late with this update. But here it is. He had a doctor's appointment on the day he hit the six-month mark, so I have real stats!&nbsp;</div><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Weight: </span>19lb, 9oz. (90th percentile)<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length: </span>27.5 inches (90th percentile)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Head circumference: </span>I never pay attention to the actual numbers, but he's also in the 90th percentile here.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating: </span>He started solids! On the morning of April 2, I was sitting with PB on my lap while I ate breakfast, which included a banana. PB was reaching like crazy for the fruit, so I broke off a small piece and held it in front of him. He nabbed it and popped it in his mouth immediately. I couldn't really see his face, but DH said he looked very thoughtful for a moment. He s-l-o-w-l-y chewed it, and we kept expecting him to spit it out, but nope! <br /><div><br /></div><div>Since then he has tried oatmeal, pears, pineapple, green beans, a crust of bread, and red bell pepper. We're doing this Baby-Led-Weaning style: we put food in front of him (the fruits and veggies are cut up in to easy-to-grab stick shapes) and let him play with it, basically. Sometimes it winds up in his mouth. So far he seems to like everything he's tried. </div><div><br /></div><div>All his actual nutrition is still coming from breastmilk. The solids, at this point, are basically a fun toy, and we've been getting him used to sitting in his high chair with us when we're eating breakfast. That's given us a fun preview to family meals in the future.</div><div><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills: </span>He is SO CLOSE to crawling. He now rocks on his hands and knees all the time. Even without formal crawling skills, he's really getting around: he'll get himself across the living room in under 2 minutes, especially if something dangerous/electrical is in his line of sight. This is correlating with an increased difficulty in the diaper-change department, because now about half the time I try to change him, he flips over on his tummy and starts trying to make quick with the getaway. It's becoming a wrestling match.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div><b>NEW CATEGORY! Teeth!: </b>He has two teeth now! April 2 was a big day - first the banana, then DH called me at work that afternoon and said he felt a tooth coming through. Over the next few days, we started to be able to see them. PB handled them pretty well - he mostly kept chawing on everything. There was one night when he woke up abruptly, screaming (very out of character for him), and looking back we think that might have been the night when they actually cut through his gums. It was a bit scary for me, as he generally just makes enough noise to alert us that he's awake, but he was really hollering, even after I picked him up. He didn't really calm down until he was nursing. But I think that was because his gums hurt.<br /><br />As DH has pointed out, we're spoiled: if PB cries for a half hour, we're both freaked out that something's really wrong.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span>Blue car, anything made of paper (he has attempted to eat at least one library book), sock monkey, O-Ball, the toy from his high chair, food. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span>He babbles all the time now: "mamama" and "babababa". He does this cute thing where he babbles while chewing on something, which is handy when I turn my back and he scoots over to DH's slippers and starts gnawing on them. (Yes, sometimes we're convinced we managed to produce a puppy). <br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills: </span>Happily, he's still a really sociable little guy. One of my dearest friends and her husband were in town for a few days, and PB took to them right away: all smiles and babbling (and drool! He likes to share that, too). The day he turned 6 months old, he got to spend a little time with his 10-month-old cousin. I think he's not entirely sure what to do about other babies, but neither is she: she kind of bapped him in the face a few times, I think to see what he would do. He mostly took it in stride, though he looked a little surprised.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>Still generally waking up once, between 4 and 5am. We've made an attempt at not getting up, to see if he'll just settle himself back to sleep, but the result of that has been that I'm awake from 4:30am until my alarm goes off, sitting in bed, just listening to him make noise in the other room. And then he's crazy-tired when his normal morning nap time comes around. And I'm getting even less sleep than I would if I got up with him. So this is perhaps not the best solution. Beyond that, though, he's sleeping pretty consistently: bedtime by 7:30pm, sleeps through to that one wakeup, otherwise (if I get up when he does and change/nurse him) he sleeps until 6:30 or 7am. Two to three naps per day, not on any kind of real schedule.&nbsp;</div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-91201851234393018862012-03-30T11:30:00.000-05:002012-03-31T13:58:32.970-05:005 months<span><div><span><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm a couple of days late with this because cool stuff has been developing behind the scenes here in Schmeiland, both with possible future housing and with my job. But all this means I have had less spare minutes of late, and I'd rather spend them snuggling PB (or catching up on one of the inevitable chores he creates) than sitting at the computer. So: delay. But here's the update:</span> </span></div><div style="font-weight: bold; "><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><b>Weight:</b></span> 19.6 pounds on his 5-month birthday, according to the bathroom scale. <div><br /></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Length/</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Head circumference: </span><span>No appointment this month, so no update here. </span></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div> <span style="font-weight: bold;">What he's eating:</span> Still strictly breastmilk. We've been having a terrible heat wave (in March - damn global warming) and I don't know if it's that, but he's been drinking less at a time and asking for milk more frequently these days. My theory is that he's thirsty (rather than hungry) from the heat. I don't know. In a given day, he still eats about the same amount as he did before.<br /><br />He goes to bed by 7:30 each night, and I pump before I go to bed. Lately the late-night pumped milk has been going straight in to the freezer because we don't need a bottle overnight, so our freezer stash is starting to look good.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Physical skills:</span> <i>He's gone mobile.</i><b> </b>Whenever I say or think that, it's in the same tone one would use to say "Skynet has become self-aware". Fortunately, it's still pretty limited: he moves around by flipping over one way, shimmy-pivoting, then flipping over the other way and repeating. But he made it halfway across the living room in a matter of minutes... so it's happening! </div><div><br /></div><div>He's also started reaching for food - especially drink glasses - when we're eating. His aim is getting more accurate: any day now he's going to slap the drink out of my hand.<br /><br />Additionally, he's getting good at grabbing anything about the face: hair, earrings, glasses, etc. He's a fan of DH's beard, and he's managed to fling my glasses to the ground a couple of times now. His default mode is this repetitive grasping motion with his hand: he's constantly palming a surface and then bringing his hands together. If he grabs something, he'll explore it (usually by bringing it to his mouth), otherwise he keeps on searching.<br /><br />We've seen him stick his rear in the air a couple of times when he's been on his tummy. I think he just has to put all the component motions together in the right order, and he'll be crawling.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Favorite toys: </span><span>S</span><span>ock monkey, burp rag, blankets, anything chewable. No visual or tactile signs of teeth yet, but he's all about chewing everything, including the fingers of whomever is holding him. </span></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div><div> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Verbal skills: </span><span>The "tugboat" sound, which I worried was fading away, has come back with an adorable vengeance! And now he's doing it while changing the tone of his voice, and it sounds like he's trying to sing. Gah. Kills me. Otherwise he's making occasional consonant sounds: "ma" and "ga" here and there. Sometimes he says "mamamama..." and I act like he's referring to me. I know he isn't yet. But it still makes me happy. </span></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Social skills:</span><span> No sign yet of any fear of strangers. If PB is met with a new person, he often starts out quiet, but curious. He generally spends a few moments kind of taking it all in before he makes any noise or tries any interaction. One exception is PB's Uncle Adam (DH's oldest brother) who lives overseas. Adam visited last week, and the kid was all over him. I suspect the fact that Adam bears a striking similarity to his dad (PB's <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> doting grandfather) helped PB feel at home with him, but I was surprised at his complete lack of hesitation: as soon as PB saw him, he reached out to grab his facial hair. </span> </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span><span>For two nights the week he hit 5 months, he slept for 11 hours straight: 7:30pm to 6:30am. Now that I've typed it out, it won't happen again, but he picked days when I really needed some sleep, and I feel fantastic in the morning if I'm not getting up at 4am to feed him. </span>The norm is still one wake up, around 4:00, which is totally doable (and I'm generally happy to offload some milk by that point, anyway). His bedtime is now pretty consistently between 7:15 and 7:30pm. Naps are slightly more regular, now that DH figured out that the kiddo tends to want to go down for his next nap around 3 hours after he went down for the last one. That formula has held for a couple of weeks now, and PB sometimes naps for as long as 2.5 hours... though 1 hour seems pretty standard.<br /><br />Now to post this before I need to start on the 6 month update! I can't believe this kid has almost been around for half a year already...<br /></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-80702899298977380562012-03-12T13:00:00.000-05:002012-03-12T20:51:36.652-05:00Boob juice: the flu editionLast week I got the flu. At least, I think I did: I started Thursday off by turning down DH's offer to fry up a couple of eggs, and instead had ginger ale for breakfast because I was feeling queasy. I still went to work, though. After a few hours spent shivering and groaning in my office, and feeling progressively worse, I made the decision to come home.<br /><br />Of course, my number one concern was that I didn't want to give this to PB with his underdeveloped little immune system - that's probably why I trudged off to work in the first place. Once I had determined I really was sick and it wasn't just something I ate, I started making myself incredibly anxious that my baby was going to get ill. I tried to think through how I could spend time at home and not touch PB.<br /><br />Fortunately, DH was thinking along the same lines, and his brain wasn't feverish, so he asked Dr. Google for the scoop. It turns out that snuggling up with baby is exactly what a nursing mom should do if she's ill. Not only does it make a miserable mom feel a little better (ed. note: it does. I needed some snuggles) but breastmilk <a href="http://www.kellymom.com/health/illness/mom-illness.html">is full of up-to-the-moment antibodies</a> so the nursing baby never needs to fight through the infection. In several places, we read that often when a whole family gets sick, the nursing baby is the one person who's healthy the whole time.<br /><br />Man, this stuff really is kind of like magic.<br /><br />I now feel mostly fine: I'm taking it bland and easy on my diet for a little while longer, but the freezing fever, aches, etc are all long gone. 5 days after I showed symptoms, PB still seems just fine. Fortunately, so does DH, contributing to our theory that this was the flu for which we got shots in the fall... I was only really sick for just over a day, while quite a few people I know were fighting it in earnest for about a week.<br /><br />When DH told me that I was keeping PB from getting the flu, I understood for just a moment why some women have difficulty stopping the nursing relationship. Being able to just give another person that kind of immunity really is like having a superpower.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-68914498780592565082012-02-23T12:30:00.002-06:002012-02-23T14:34:35.635-06:004 monthsPB is already four months old, and I realized with some sadness that I'm already starting to forget things from when he was a newborn. Of course we were all pretty tired in the first few weeks, and that can lend a haze to the recall function, but still - it's nice to remember these things. <div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">I'll try to be better about a monthly update from here on out, since he changes so much these days. So here's what's up with him at 4 months old - and it's pretty wordy, since this is the first of these I've done:</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">His 4-month appointment was on 2/22, two days after he turned 4 months old. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Weight:</b><span style="font-weight: normal; "> 17lb, 10 oz (90th percentile)</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Length:</b><span style="font-weight: normal; "> 26.5 inches (95th percentile) </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Head circumference:</b><span style="font-weight: normal; "> 98th percentile</span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">So... he's pretty big! </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>What's he eating:</b> Exclusively breastmilk, approximately 24oz from bottles while I'm at work, and then three nursing sessions per 24 hours. On days I'm home he gets almost all his milk from nursing, though there's an occasional bottle if I'm out running an errand or something. So: easily over a quart of milk per day. We're putting those <a href="http://www.enfamil.com/app/iwp/enf10/content.do?dm=enf&amp;id=/Consumer_Home3/Infants/EnfamilPolyViSol2&amp;iwpst=B2C&amp;ls=0&amp;csred=1&amp;r=3507480043">Poly-Vi-Sol with Iron</a> drops in one bottle a day (99% of the time DH is the one who remembers/does this, thankfully). They make his poop stink like metal. But I guess that's good. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Physical skills: </b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* Rolling from his tummy to his back is old hat for him. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* He's found his hands, and they are usually in his mouth, except when they're grabbing toys/burp rags/ his dad's beard or mom's dangling earrings. I can't believe there was a time when he didn't grab everything, but that was actually just over three weeks ago. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* Sometimes he just chills on his tummy during his tummy time, and while he's doing that he does a sustained pushup while moving his legs in a very pre-crawl kind of way. His neck is quite strong now and he will also look around a lot while he's on his tummy - if one of us is walking around the apartment he'll just track us, and then smile if we stop and say hi/make a face/ do something goofy. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "> * Lately he's also started rolling over on to his back and then figuring out how to do a Stooge-esque move wherein he wiggles himself around in a circle, with his head at the center. He does that in his crib, too, so sometimes when he wakes up from a nap he'll be facing the opposite direction from the way he was set down. That's all recent - within the last week. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* Overall, the dude never stops moving, and he is STRONG. He wiggles so much during diaper changes that it's becoming something of a wrestling match, and he's thwacked me in the face with his head so hard a couple of times that I've had actual concerns about chipping a tooth or breaking my nose. Neither has happened yet, fortunately. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* The amount of drool he produces in a day is astounding. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Favorite Toys: </b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><a href="http://sophiegiraffeusa.com/">Sophie the Giraffe</a>, The <a href="http://www.manhattantoy.com/product/296210/MHT209620/_/Manhattan+Toy+-+Skwish+Natural?utm_source=google&amp;utm_medium=shopping&amp;utm_campaign=googleshopping&amp;m=1522&amp;c=0&amp;o=googleshopping">Sqwish</a>, The <a href="http://www.fao.com/product/index.jsp?productId=12237953&amp;CAWELAID=1054809273">OBall</a>, and burp rags. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Verbal skills:</b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* He's definitely laughing now, though it's at kind of random times. Often when he gets placed on the changing table, he does a giggle-SHRIEK combo that encourages me to do a lot of silly stuff to draw out changing time because it's a lot of fun. Of course, changing diapers takes twice as long now, anyway, on account of the wiggles, so I'm glad he's happy there. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* When DH plays his guitar, PB likes to babble along. Sometimes he makes extended "aaaaaaa" sounds, almost like singing. And sometimes he makes that noise while holding his hands up like he has a harmonica, so it looks like he's accompanying his pa. Cute! </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* He's also making a cute "bppppththtt" tugboat-type sound. He's been doing that for a little over a month now. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Social skills: </b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* PB is really a happy baby, though he's definitely a morning person. We had a family funeral this past weekend, and he didn't handle the visitation well (I would normally not take a 4-month old to a visitation, but there were automobile logistics involved) because it was late in the evening, he slept in the car on the way there, and when he woke up there were 4 complete strangers (excited cousins) looming over him, so he was kind of overwhelmed. On the other hand, the church service was the next day at 11:30am, and he did wonderfully: he quietly sat and watched the ceiling fans, chewed on his hands or a burp rag, and played with his great uncle's glasses for the hour. He babbled a little toward the end of the service, but several people actually thanked me afterward - they said hearing a baby in church helped remind them that life goes on. I was concerned about the lunch after the service (the funeral was for DH's 90-year-old grandfather, and nearly all of his very numerous descendants were present), but he handled the crowd well, and did a lot of smiling and looking around while he was passed from relative to relative. He definitely recognizes the voices of DH's parents - he generally reacts with a smile when he hears them, especially his grandmother, who's crazy about him. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div><b>Sleep: </b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div>I'm going to be very wordy about this, because in the last month or so this has changed drastically for us. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* We're settling in to a decent nighttime sleep routine. Bed time is 7pm, so around 6:15 I start to draw a bath. I give PB his bath in the bathroom tub (dude's too big for the kitchen sink now!) in his green foam baby tub, which is not ideal but we only really need it until he can sit up on his own. I just climb in to the tub barefoot with shorts on and crouch over him to bathe him - it's the easiest way to manage bathing him at this point - again, when he's a little bigger I'll probably kneel next to the tub, but at this point I have to support him somewhat, so I'm often using my foot to keep the little tub propped up while I use my hands to bathe him. (I've heard of people just taking a bath with their baby, but then isn't the aftermath too slippery? How do you get both of yourselves dried off? I don't know how well that would work for us.) </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">PB used to not be a big fan of the bath. Now he's OK with it, and sometimes I get a few smiles. If he has a washcloth to hang on to and chew, he's pretty content. After the bath, he gets a triple-stuffed diaper (just started tripling 2 nights ago, with good results), PJs, a sleep sack and hat, and then we enjoy a nice long nursing session in the chair in his room. His room has a dimmer light, which is perfect because I can set it to almost-off and help him get drowsy while he eats. Half the time he falls asleep at the breast, which they say isn't the best sleep training, but "they" can deal - it's adorable and he's happy. The other half the time I'll put him in his crib drowsy and he might complain for a few minutes, but it's rarely longer than 8-10 minutes, and his heart isn't in it. He wakes up once or twice a night. If he's up before 1am, DH gives him a bottle of milk and puts him right back down. If it's after 1am, I nurse him. If he sleeps that long (which he's been doing more often lately), I usually have to change his PJs, and sometimes his crib sheet, because he's peed through everything - hence the triple-stuffing, which has helped this problem. I get all the fabric changing out of the way first so he can nurse himself back in to a stupor afterward. He generally looks wide awake when I put him in his crib after a night feeding, but he doesn't make much noise at all, usually just a little chatting to himself before he drops back to sleep. He wakes up for the day between 6:00 and 7:30am (though this weekend after a particularly tiring day he slept until 8:30! On a Sunday morning! I was in heaven). </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* Side note: Evenings are nice. DH and I have our dinner after PB is in bed - often DH is cooking while I'm doing the whole bath/bed routine - so we have a couple of hours of just-the-two-of-us time to eat and chat and watch a little TV or whatever. I'm not sure why, but I didn't expect that perk. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">* Naps are not completely consistent, but it often seems to hinge on the morning nap: if PB gets an hour or more at the 9am nap, he's pretty happy for the rest of the day. If the 9am nap doesn't work out well, the rest of the day's naps are usually crap, and he's a crank by the evening. On good days (which are more common) PB takes 2 long naps (1.5 - 2 hours each) or 3 shorter (45 minutes - 1 hour) naps. The longest nap he's taken when I'm home is an hour and 15 minutes... I think the dynamic is just different if I'm around all day and he's nursing, rather than getting bottles.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">For naps, we're generally just following the guidelines in "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Sleep-Habits-Happy-Child/dp/0345486455/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1330025768&amp;sr=8-1">Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child</a>" that say an infant shouldn't be awake for longer than 2 hours at a time. PB gives pretty clear cues that he's getting sleepy, though: starting to whine (annoying) and rubbing his eyes (adorable). </div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">All this wordiness may convey that I was a little bit obsessive about sleep. When PB was almost 3 months old, I read in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dr-Spocks-Baby-Child-Care/dp/1439189285/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1330025883&amp;sr=8-2">Dr. Spock</a> that children should be able to go to sleep on their own when they're put to bed "drowsy but awake" by 4 months of age. This freaked me out, because at the time we didn't have a consistent bedtime or routine, and putting him down for his long (maybe 5 hours) sleep at night involved a long time (sometimes upward of an hour) of rocking/bouncing/shushing/etc. to try to get him to sleep around 11pm. I'm a little stunned to realize that a month ago we were still doing all that - and still wrapping PB up in a swaddle blanket at night. And only a couple of weeks before that he was doing all his sleeping in the swing.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">I checked out probably 8 different sleep books from the library. Part of the reason there are a zillion sleep books to choose from is that every baby is a bit different... so we just decided to pick and choose what sounded reasonable for the baby we have. <span style="font-size: 100%; ">In the end, I think the folks who needed the most "training" were DH and me. Once we tried a routine, PB took to it right away, and now, as Dr. Spock predicted, we can put him in his crib still awake and he will go to sleep. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">* The night after his 4-month shots, PB went to sleep just before 7pm (he fell asleep at the breast - he was pretty tired) and slept for TWELVE HOURS STRAIGHT. He has never done that before, and I'm sure it was because of the shots, but wow... I felt so well-rested. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><span style="font-size: 100%; ">I also felt like my chest was going to explode, but such is life. </span></div><div style="font-weight: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-weight: normal; ">Things change so quickly with this guy. I wonder what I'll be writing about him in another month! </div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-89687453679912085242012-02-16T11:30:00.000-06:002012-02-16T14:48:36.653-06:00The birthening, part 3: Wednesday, or, Progress? Please?<div><i>Ed. Note: I had a self-imposed deadline to finish my birth story: March 22, The Speaker's due date. Then that kid decided to go and get born 6 weeks early. Happily, they're all fine, but that thwarted my plan... so I'm just finishing it when I'm finishing it. </i></div><div><br /></div>By around midnight Tuesday night, I felt like we were down to the business of getting this kid born: my water had broken on its own, my contractions were becoming intense, and when I took a bathroom break, the second dose of Cervadil just... um... fell out.<br /><br />Ick. Sorry.<br /><br />Frankly, that kind of grossed me out, too, but it told me that my cervix was open enough that it couldn't hold the weird dosage suppository thing in place anymore, so I was making progress! Apparently every gross thing was a sign of progress.<br /><br />I called the nurses to tell them about the Cervadil, and the midwives showed up to talk things over with me. I would have a few hours to labor without meds, and then they'd hook me up to an IV of pitocin. I wasn't looking forward to that, and I was briefly sad that I couldn't use the bath tub because my bag of waters was already broken... but the midwives said that was crazy, I should feel free to labor in the tub. So DH and I shuffled over to the bathroom.<div><br /></div><div>(A<i>s an aside: I've read and heard plenty of stories about women being in shared rooms during their labor and delivery, and I just don't know how they did it. I would have murdered someone if I'd been sharing the room with other laboring women. As it was, there were several times over the three days when we could hear women in other delivery rooms SCREAMING while they were pushing, followed by the crying of a newborn baby. Early on, that made me anxious. Toward the end of my labor, it made me sad because I kind of knew that wouldn't be me.) </i><br /><br />At some point around the breaking of my waters, DH's presence went from "nice and comforting" to "absolutely required". I was starting to have trouble getting through contractions without his coaching, and I think the real shift to seriousness happened in that bathroom, while I was laboring in the bath tub and he was perched on the toilet lid, timing contractions and talking me through them. While I was in the tub, the contractions got considerably more intense, and I found myself starting to vocalize: making "aaaaaah" or "haaaaah" sounds to get through them, relaxing my jaw at the same time.<br /><br />When each contraction started, I would turn on the jacuzzi jets and roll on to my side so they were hitting me in the lower back, where it really hurt (um, back labor! But my brain wouldn't consider that, because back labor is hard, y'all). DH would time the contraction and tell me when it was halfway over: we learned in childbirth class that, around 30 seconds in, the pain won't get any worse and would start to dissipate. It became absolutely vital to me that he tell me when I'd passed 30 seconds. For the next entire day, he did just that, every 3 to 7 minutes: "you're halfway there". "OK, it's halfway over"; "You're past 30 seconds, you can make it." Over and over and over. Later in the process I recall he ran to the bathroom, and I had a contraction while he was away, and I thought I was actually going to die.<br /><br />Also around this time, I think it was about 1:00am on Wednesday, time began to flow in a different manner. I began to lose any idea about what time or day it was - time was either a contraction or the pause between contractions. (<i>This is why writing this has been so difficult. For the rest of this story, I've made a good-faith effort to keep things in chronological order, but I may be mis-remembering the order of things.)</i> </div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately, the contractions still weren't coming regularly - there could be anywhere from 3 to 7 minutes between contractions, which is a big difference.<br /><br />We passed several hours this way: first I labored in the tub, then I got my gown back on and tried various positions in the room: squat-sitting on the birthing ball and leaning over on to the foot of the bed, standing up with the birthing ball on the bed so I could collapse over it (this became one of my favorites because someone could easily apply hard pressure to my lower back), and others. I absolutely couldn't just sit through a contraction, and even lying on my side was becoming difficult.<br /><br />At some point during the night, they started me on pitocin, which made the contractions even more intense.<br /><br />At 8:00am, Gina - my absolute favorite midwife - started her 24-hour shift. For months I'd been telling myself I wanted to have the baby on Gina's watch, and now it seemed like my dreams were coming true. </div><div><br /></div><div>Some time around 9am Wednesday, Gina came in. She checked me, and I was dilated to 3.5 centimeters... no progress since the last midwife check earlier in the night, but she said that wasn't an issue - I'd still made some progress with the Cervadil, my water had broken on its own, and there were no signs of distress for me or the baby, so we were just going to keep things rolling along. That sounded good to us. She did offer to call the volunteer doula, which we'd shown an interest in before. DH and I thought about it for a second and said to go ahead. </div><div><br /></div><div>Breakfast was brought in - eggs and stuff - and I knew I needed to eat to keep up my energy (plus we'd chosen this hospital because they let moms eat during labor) but food was starting to lose its appeal. I forced down some oatmeal. DH ate most of the rest, because he was starving, too.<br /><br />Jessica the volunteer doula arrived later in the morning. Calling her was the Greatest. Decision. Ever. We automatically felt at ease with her, and I was so relieved to have someone on the team with DH so he could do things like take bathroom breaks or get a snack or just not be "on" the whole time. Plus, she was able to run some interference with the nurses and midwives, which was awesome because they were all ridiculously busy, this being approximately 9 months after Blizzaster 2011 - a bumper crop of babies were being born the week we were in the hospital. As a trained doula, Jessica made suggestions for labor positions/vocalizations, said all the right encouraging things during contractions, made sure I always had super-hot soaked chux pads on my lower back (a Godsend for back labor) and even went out to the waiting room and calmed down my family, who were all trying not to freak out about how long everything was taking. I was so, so grateful for her being there. I didn't expect to even really want a doula, and she ended up being such an integral part of the process for us... it still amazes me.<br /><br />By midafternoon I became even more charming: after every third contraction or so, I started vomiting. Jessica, dear heart, held the puke tray while DH pressed down on my lower back. I honestly got a little excited about the puking. I thought, "hey, this is progress! Don't you puke during transition? Maybe I'm dilated to, like, 7 or something..." </div><div><br /></div><div>Labor messes with your head.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Here's where someone might ask: OK, Schmei, the whole labor process wasn't going the way you'd hoped - why not get some painkilling meds? And the truth is, I was totally open to the idea of something like an epidural to help me rest. I was, in fact, asking Gina about it - but I hadn't progressed enough. If they administer an epidural before "active labor" - usually at 4 centimeters - it often has the effect of slowing labor or stopping it completely. Since I was already being induced (forcing labor against my body's wishes), that would have been counterproductive. So I had to work up to 4 centimeters. And at this point in the day, my thinking was moving to that: let's get far enough so I can get an epidural and get some rest before I have to push this kid out. </div><div><br /></div><div>Also, that the hours and hours of contractions didn't count as active labor still kind of pisses me off. I was active! And laboring! What more did the universe want? </div><div><br /></div><div>Whatever.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sometime in the late afternoon, Gina checked me again. We were all hoping for progress. </div><div><br /></div><div>She reluctantly told me the news: </div><div><br /></div><div>"Three and a half." </div><div><br /></div><div>No way. NO. WAY. After HOURS of pitocin and God knows how many contractions? Still? What was I doing wrong? I wasn't visualizing enough, or breathing deeply enough, or something... and how much longer could I do this? I hadn't slept in two days, I couldn't keep food down... I was tired. More tired, actually, than I had ever been in my life. I was starting to wonder how on earth I'd have the energy to push him out whenever I did finally dilate to 10. </div><div><br /></div><div>And in the back of my mind, there was the kernel of a thought that I just wouldn't dilate to 10... that we were looking at a c-section. But I mostly ignored that thought. I went back to what I was doing wrong. Maybe I was too tense during contractions, despite all my efforts to relax. </div><div><br /></div><div>I asked Gina what my options were for pain relief. Since I hadn't progressed enough for the epidural, that was out, but she could give me a narcotic to dull the pain. I accepted it, leading to one of the only regrets I have about that process: that stuff (Nubain? I'm not sure) sucked. I did get a little pain relief, but I was mostly just out of it - half-asleep, disconnected from the world for a while. And since I was so fatigued, I never completely recovered from it: for the rest of the labor process I had difficulties keeping my eyes open for more than a few seconds, and many times I would have one eye closed while the other struggled to focus on something. It was weird. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that was the start, I think, of the slow march to the operating room. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-14144045890914853792012-02-10T11:30:00.001-06:002012-02-10T16:27:39.239-06:00A list<div>1) I did a little math and realized I am producing a quart of milk, give or take, every day. A QUART. </div><div><br /></div><div>2) You'd think that would mean our freezer is full of backup milk, but nope! I'm barely keeping up with the kid's daily needs. </div><div><br /></div><div>3) We weighed him like a turkey (or a camping backpack) the other day, and our home scale says he's pushing 17 pounds. Not surprising, since he's drinking A QUART OF MILK EVERY DAY. </div><div><br /></div><div>4) I'm hungry all the time, and I'm drinking - no lie - about 100 oz of liquid per day. See #1. </div><div><br /></div><div>5) I threw out my shoulder/neck a few days ago. See #3. Also: cribs are not ergonomic, especially not for short women... which is, like, half of all parents. OK, I guess there are tall women out there. But I'm not one of them. </div><div><br /></div><div>6) The little guy is learning how to laugh. I'm grateful for this intermediate stage, where his laughs are kind of tentative, because they make my heart <i>aaaallmost </i>explode. He's giving me a chance so I'll survive his first belly laugh. Hopefully. </div><div><br /></div><div>7) We are doing some gentle sleep training. It is working, for the most part: he's been going to sleep at 7pm and sleeping until roughly 7am (the range is from 6am to 7:45 so far), with one to two wake ups during the night for a snack and a diaper change. It's a very livable routine for the whole family, especially now that DH and I have worked out the nighttime feedings so we both get a solid chunk of sleep. I think the good sleep is 30% our doing and 70% just that the universe blessed us with a relatively chill baby. We're doing sort-of cry-it-out stuff. He generally cries for 10 minutes or less, and it's totally an "I'm sooo sleeepy..." kind of cry. And then he sleeps for hours and wakes up super happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>8) He could also be sleeping well because of #1 and #3. </div><div><br /></div><div>9) I keep hearing that all the sleep routines go to hell at 4 months, so... one day at a time. </div><div><br /></div><div>10) Almost every time I pump at work, someone knocks on my office door. Inconvenient, because I need to pump relatively frequently (see #1), and seriously? You don't want me to answer the door. We'd all be traumatized. </div><div><br /></div><div>11) Because of #10, I am now having anxiety dreams about pumping at work, similar to those dreams you have as a kid about showing up to school naked. In the dreams, I'm pumping, with the office door open, without pants on, and there are like twelve people standing in my doorway. What I want to know is, where did my pants go? </div><div><br /></div><div>12) I've decided to refer to the kiddo as PB on this blog, because I'm tired of calling him "the kiddo/kid/baby/dude/little guy", and I was so focused on protein when I was pregnant that he is probably 30% composed of peanut butter.</div><div><br /></div><div>13) Last night PB only woke up once, around 2:30am. I nursed him on one side, then changed his diaper, and then was about to start nursing him on the other side when he spit up on my neck, purposely missing the burp rag. When I pulled him back to wipe off his face (and my neck - ew), he gave me a huge, gummy smile in the dim light. Which just made me hug him. Who else gets a hug for horking part of their meal on to my neck? </div><div><br /></div><div>14) A year ago today I found out I was pregnant. That's nuts. </div><div><br /></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-56604602314797186672012-02-03T10:30:00.000-06:002012-02-03T11:42:35.363-06:00A side noteThis is a non-baby-related post. In fact, this post is on the opposite end of the spectrum from my drooly, adorable son.<br /><br />A former professor of mine posted a link to this story on facebook: <a href="http://solitarywatch.com/2012/01/23/83-year-old-activist-priest-held-in-solitary-confinement-in-federal-prison/">83-Year-Old Activist Priest Held in Solitary Confinement</a>, which, through the comments, led me to <a href="http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/atlarge/2012/01/30/120130crat_atlarge_gopnik#ixzz1kOk0IROi">this piece in <span style="font-style: italic;">The New Yorker</span> </a>about the US as a carceral state. Which led me to renew my subscription to that publication - something DH and I had been waffling about.<br /><br />Though the Occupy protests by the 99% have been heartening, they don't seem to have touched very much on our enormous, expensive, embarrassing prison system - and I haven't heard much about how states like Florida disenfranchise felons for life, which, the way felony convictions get handed out, can effect the electorate fairly drastically.<div><br /></div><div>And frankly... maybe this isn't that unrelated to my kid. Every one of those incarcerated people has a mother.<br /></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-90331077296795717412012-01-26T11:30:00.000-06:002012-01-26T16:24:28.337-06:00The Birthening, part 2: Tuesday, or, Things eventually start to happenDH and I dozed in the hospital room through Monday night. Every hour or so someone would come in to check my blood pressure, so I kept waking up, but I was generally able to get back to sleep. Around 7:00am someone brought a tray of breakfast - the food was actually pretty good at the hospital - and then at 8:00 the shift changed and the new midwives came in and talked with me.<br /><br />I was starting to have mild contractions, but I couldn't even feel most of them. I had a second monitor strapped to my belly that indicated when a contraction was happening, but I generally wouldn't even know unless I was looking at the monitor right when the contraction started.<br /><br />Once we were up, DH and I were relaxing and killing time before the real work began. We had brought a bunch of movies on VHS because the rooms only had VCRs, so we watched "The Empire Strikes Back". We had to pause it a few times for interruptions, including the arrival of my parents.<br /><br />When Mom and Dad arrived, they seriously expected something to be happening. One of us told them it would be "at least twelve more hours, maybe longer", and they expressed surprise. I'm still not sure where they picked up the idea of an instantaneous induction... especially because my sister had gone through virtually the same scenario 18 months before. We told them they should go find some lunch while the midwife checks me out. (I know plenty of women who want their mother with them every step of the way during labor and delivery, but that's just not the relationship I have with my mom.)<br /><br />At 11:00am the first Cervadil was removed, and the midwife checked me: no noticeable progress. No one was very surprised.<br /><br />Since I was briefly unmedicated, I could take off the fetal heart rate monitor. I took a shower, which felt lovely, and then I put on my street clothes and DH and I took a brisk walk... down the hall. We weren't allowed to leave the labor and delivery area, so we walked laps back and forth, back and forth. I had a few contractions during the walk, but they were mild enough that I could walk through them. I hoped the contractions without meds were a sign that my body was starting to do some real laboring.<div><br /></div><div>Labor is so weird: I was looking forward to pain as a sign of progress. When else do you <i>want </i>to be hurting?<br /><br />My parents return from lunch while we were still briskly walking. We told them to just hang around my room and we'd catch up with them in a moment - I didn't want to lose that last chance to move the baby down before I was stuck in the room again.<br /><br />Around 1:00pm, I got a second dose of Cervadil. Ouch again. While that was happening, my folks checked in to a hotel about 15 minutes away from the hospital.<br /><br />My parents returned that afternoon... with my sister, who flew in as a surprise. I stayed in the hospital bed for most of the time they were visiting, because I had an open-backed gown and I didn't want to moon my whole family. Otherwise, though, I changed positions pretty regularly in the hopes that it would help move things along.<br /><br />A few hours later, the contractions finally started to pick up. They were what I would call textbook contractions: I feel a tightening low in my abdomen that then moved up my belly, stayed tight for a time, and then dissipated. DH started timing them and he saw that they were lasting for about a minute. They were becoming uncomfortable, and I found myself starting to use belly breathing and relaxation techniques from my birthing class to get through them. By around 8:30pm I was lying on my side on the body pillow I brought from home (my trusty Snoogle!), trying to catch some sleep before things got really serious. When nurses came in to check my blood pressure, I just stuck my arm up - apparently the nurses were impressed with how relaxed and prepared we were, and commented about this to other staff in the midwife office.<br /><br />Shortly after 8:30pm, we turned off all the lights and tried to make an early night of it, anticipating that we'd need to rest up for the day ahead. I kept dozing off, but waking up for contractions, breathing through them and relaxing different parts of my body. DH was fast asleep on the dad-cot about 10 feet away from me, and I let him sleep... I could handle these on my own, and (though I didn't know just how much yet) I knew he'd need the rest.<br /><br />A bit after 10pm, I was awakened by a contraction. It was like the others: rolling up my midsection, tightening uncomfortably... and then something felt weird. I momentarily thought the baby was kicking, really hard, in the middle of the contraction. Maybe he was, but then I felt a definitive POP!... and a second later, a warm gush between my legs.<div><br />Oh, my God. My water just broke.<br /><br />I yelled for DH, who was in a deep sleep at that point, so I had to shout his name while simultaneously fumbling for the nurse call button. Mere seconds after I told the nurses "my water just broke!", a crew of women swept in, all the lights came on, and there was a flurry of activity. I was somewhat stunned at just how much amniotic fluid there was: It just kept pouring out. Of me. Weird. It was also messy, and I kept apologizing to the nurses who were trying to clean me up. My hospital gown was soaked, as were the sheets on my bed, so the bed and I both got stripped down and changed. I couldn't really walk around anywhere without making a puddle, so I just stood awkwardly in one place while the gushing continued. </div><div><br /></div><div>Academically, I knew I wasn't peeing all over myself, but it's hard to explain that to your emotional self when warm fluid is pouring down your legs.<br /><br />The midwives came in shortly thereafter and checked the scene out. One of the nurses thought she saw meconium - baby poop - in the fluid. The midwife wasn't so sure, she thought it looked clear enough, which made me feel a better, but they were all keeping an eye on the heart monitor and my temperature to make sure things weren't getting sketchy.<br /><br />My water breaking on its own was a good sign, all around - labor was finally taking off, it seemed. And sure enough, the contractions that came afterward were markedly different without the cushion of amniotic fluid. It would be days later that I would admit out loud to DH that what I experienced after my water broke was what is called "back labor": every contraction, for the next 22 hours or so, was located squarely in my lower back. And they weren't periods of tightness or mild discomfort any more. They were painful.<br /></div></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-62067210136135812252012-01-24T11:45:00.000-06:002012-01-23T22:22:11.721-06:00Boob Juice: I love it/ I hate it editionSo it's been three months of exclusively breastfeeding the little guy, and now I'm back at work 4 days a week (I work from home on Wednesdays).The situation has changed, once again, so I thought I'd record the recent changes - both in circumstances and in my attitude - in list form. <div><br /></div><div><b>Stuff I love about breastfeeding</b>: </div><div><br /></div><div>- Nursing is a really snuggly time. I have a super-tall baby, so he wraps himself almost all the way around me when he's nursing, which keeps us both warm on these chilly days. When I burp him after he nurses, he likes to snuggle and chat, too - it's great quality time. </div><div><br /></div><div>- As the kiddo's personality is coming out more, he gets really cute mid-nursing session: sometimes when he's no longer starving but he's not finished with his meal, he'll take a quick break to look up and me and smile. Sometimes he does this three or four times in a row: it's like early peek-a-boo. When he sees I'm still there, he looks SO HAPPY. Bonus cute points are earned when some milk runs down his cheek while he's making faces at me. </div><div><br /></div><div>- This is selfish, but holy crap, this is the best weight-loss plan ever. I'm within 5 pounds of my pre-pregnancy weight, all my pre-pregnancy pants fit, and the only exercise I've done since giving birth is walking around. All this despite the fact that I'm hungry all the time and eating like it's going out of style. This is a very nice side effect of being a nursing mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>- So far, I haven't had an issue with supply. I built up a stash of freezer milk before I headed back for work, which has helped while I've figured out how much I need to pump in the office. Now that I've been doing it for a couple of weeks, I think things are starting to regulate, and I'm grateful we haven't really had a panic about what the kid will eat. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Dude is growing in leaps and bounds, and everything he's eating comes from me. It seems arrogant to be proud about that, but... whatever. I'm proud of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>- I'm a D-cup. Va va va voom. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Stuff I don't love about breastfeeding</b>: </div><div><br /></div><div>- I'm a D-cup. Yeah, that's hawt and all, but the need to wear industrial-grade underwire bras all day makes it a little less awesome.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>- All those nice things about nursing? Yeah, that doesn't happen during pumping, which I do 3-4 times a day on office days and once or twice on days I'm home. Being attached to a milking machine feels very bovine, and a little sad because I know what I'm missing (see snuggle description above).</div><div><br /></div><div>- If I go more than about 4 hours without either nursing or pumping, I get uncomfortable. If I go more than 6 hours, I start to feel like my chest will explode. This is a bummer, because on the occasional night when the kiddo sleeps 8+ hours, I don't get to sleep that long: I have to get up at some point and pump. And it's not like, "oh, maybe I should pump", it's <i>painful</i>. So some days I feel like I will never ever sleep more than 7 hours straight ever again. I know this isn't true, but it will be several months, at least, before I'll have that chance. </div><div><br /></div><div>- My kid is great about taking a bottle, but he prefers nursing... which means he likes to make up for lost time on days I'm away at the office. Lost time gets made up at 2am. Bleh. At least I don't have to wake up at 6 to pump? </div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>- I am concerned that one of these days I'll forget the bottles or pump parts I have to tote back and forth from home to the office... and then I'll have to take the 30-minute train ride back to pick them up. Hasn't happened yet, but I've only been doing this for a couple of weeks so far.<br /><br />I will say that, on balance, things have smoothed out, and I can see continuing this nursing relationship as long as the little dude would like (or until he's 2 - that's my limit). My advice to new moms who are considering it remains that it's worth a try and it's best to ask for help BEFORE you're crying about it. Because you'll get to the point when you look forward to nursing the tot, and you kind of feel like a superhero for being the source of his food and a major source of comfort, and contented post-nursing snuggles are really the tops for both parties.<br /></div>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-30996358543420790402012-01-23T11:45:00.002-06:002012-01-23T22:21:43.582-06:002011 in Review<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family: georgia;color:black;" >I'm always slow with New Year's stuff, but this is the Lunar New Year, so... happy year of the Dragon!<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family: georgia;color:black;" >I'm fairly certain 2011 was the most life-changing year I've experienced thus far. It was also possibly the most difficult. It was definitely one of the most tiring. At the start of 2011 year I was a childless grad student, living in the city with my husband (also a grad student) and a cat. Now I have a master's degree, and a baby, and no cat, and I live in the suburbs. I still, fortunately, have the husband (who's now a doctor... of philosophy), but now we're parents, too. Those are some big changes in one year. When 2011 started, we didn't know the life and death stuff would happen - I had no inkling I'd get pregnant this year, and of course we thought our cat would live for many more years - which makes it all a little crazier.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-family: georgia;color:black;" >Overall, I'm happy to bid adieu to 2011. With everything that happened in the year, I would like to think I've grown up a little. I still consider myself kind of a kid, though, and I wonder if I will still feel that way when I turn 30 this year.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >1.</span></b><span style="color:black;"> <b>What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?</b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;; color:black;" >Completed and defended a master's thesis. <b><br /></b></span></p><span style="font-family:georgia;"> Gestated a human being, experienced labor, then sustained said human with milk from my own body.</span> <span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />Moved to the suburbs (something I said I would never do).</span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Eh, maybe I'll actually make some for 2012. </span><span style="color:black;">Can I make a resolution to make resolutions?<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >3. Did anyone close to you give birth?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >Haha! Me. Also: one of my coworkers, a close friend of mine, and one of my cousins. Lotsa babies.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >4. Did anyone close to you die?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >Dear sweet Corina the wonder kitty. I still miss her daily.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">5. What countries did you visit?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">We stayed right here in the US. Again. </span><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Actual open dialogue with difficult members of my family.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">More money*. </span><b><span style="color:black;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?</span></b></p><span style="font-family:georgia;">January 6: the day we decided we'd think about having a kid.</span> <span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><br />February 10: the day I found out I was pregnant (yeeeah, that was fast!).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">The second week of June: the week from hell (found out our baby's gender, put our cat to sleep, defended my master's thesis and celebrated DH's grad school graduation).</span><br /><br />July 8: paid off the last of my student loan debt.<br /><br />July 14: Our fifth anniversary - we took a much needed, very relaxing 4-night trip to Wisconsin to celebrate.<br /><br />August 1: moved to our swanky new 2-bedroom apartment in the 'burbs.<br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">October 20: birth of our firstborn son</span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Finishing grad school and paying off the last of our debt were both pretty big, but I think welcoming our son in to the world kind of trumps all other achievements this year.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >9. What was your biggest failure?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">I still wonder sometimes: did I fail to realize Corina was getting really sick? Was I not aggressive enough about taking care of her before it was too late? I don't know. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Also, I didn't manage to birth my kid without major surgical intervention. It's dumb, but I do occasionally feel kind of like a failure for that.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" > </span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >10. Did you suffer illness or injury?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">I'm not sure if abdominal surgery counts... with the long recovery involved, I think it should, though, so there was that.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">11. What was the best thing you bought?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">The swing/rocker we found at a consignment shop for $3. The kiddo loves that thing. <b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" > </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >12. Where did most of your money go?</span></b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family:&quot;Times New Roman&quot;; mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Rent, moving costs, baby supplies, paying off the last of our debt.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">13. What did you get really excited about?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Being knocked up, and telling people about it.<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Learning the Speaker is pregnant (she's already in to the third trimester - I'm so excited!).<br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Getting out of debt (have I mentioned that enough?)<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style=";color:black;" >14. What song will always remind you of 2011?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Probably the "Women of the World, Take Over" song DH played for me while I was in labor. Or Paul Simon's "Get Ready for Christmas Day"<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >15. Compared to this time last year, are you:</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">– happier or sadder? Yes, both. I cried more in 2011 than I have ever cried before, but I've also been so happy at times, thanks largely to the kid, that my heart hurts.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >– thinner or fatter? Slightly fatter, but I've lost most of the baby weight at this point. This is a major benefit of breastfeeding!<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >– richer or poorer? On paper, verry slightly richer. In reality I feel pretty broke.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">16. What do you wish you’d done more of?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Laughed, slept.</span><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >17. Wish you’d done less of?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Cried, worried.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >18. How did you spend Christmas?</span></b></p>This was the first year in my life that I didn't spend any part of Christmas day in a car, and it was really nice.<br /><br />The weekend before Christmas, DH, the kiddo and I went up to my brother's apartment and had a brunch and gift exchange with my brother and sister-in-law. It was Sunday afternoon, and we ended up hanging around until 7pm or so, watching football and just relaxing with them. Super nice.<br /><br />On the 21st, DH and I loaded up an entire carload of baby equipment, gifts, laundry and of course the baby and drove the 2.5 hours to my in-laws' house. We stayed there until the 27th, and it was a pretty great week: the kiddo slept really well at night and my mother-in-law basically insisted we get out most afternoons without the baby so she could babysit. On Christmas eve we went to Mass and left the kiddo in the care of a rotating cast of family members back at the house. He seemed to like that. After church, we had chili for dinner and then opened our stockings and had Christmas cookies and egg nog. Then on Christmas morning we opened our big presents. Not surprisingly, there were about four times more baby gifts under the tree than gifts for anyone else. Our big present from the in-laws was a high chair, which we clearly aren't using yet, but I'm glad we have one.<br /><br />I Skyped with my immediate family on Christmas day - we were in 4 different states. This made for a very low-drama Christmas on my side of the family, which is a Good Thing.<br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">19. What was your favorite TV program?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Arrested Development and Cheers streaming on Netflix. Oh, and Pawn Stars - we watched all of it while packing and unpacking from the move.<br /><b><span style="color:black;"></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">20. What were your favorite books of the year?</span></b><span style="color:black;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Since we've moved and I was on maternity leave, I had access to a good library and a bit of time to read while nursing. Of course, I haven't read anything published this year except the excellent <span style="font-style: italic;">Life with Mr. Dangerous</span></span>. I'd pick <span style="font-style: italic;">The Year of Living Biblically </span>by A.J. Jacobs as one of my favorite reads of the year. <b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >21. What was your favorite music from this year?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Possibly the new Paul Simon album? That makes me sound like such an old person, but it's a good album!<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style=";color:black;" >22. What were your favorite films of the year?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style=";color:black;" >Cowboys and Aliens was one of the only movies I watched in a theater this year... but it was pretty awesome. </span><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">I turned 29. Did the usual stuff at Silver Lake. I need to come up with something awesome for 30 this year, I think.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">My cat not dying, shit not getting weird with my parents. OK, that's two things.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Maternity wear! Fun while it lasted, but I'm looking forward to a new look in 2012. </span><b><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" ><br /></span></b></p><b style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="mso-fareast-font-family: &quot;Times New Roman&quot;;mso-bidi-Times New Roman&quot;;color:black;" >26. What kept you sane?</span></b> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Long walks with DH, before and after the birth.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="color:black;">27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><span style="color:black;">Even if - or especially if - you just had a baby, people aren't going to give you what you need, especially if your real need is for time and space to adjust to the way life has just drastically changed for you. You have to claim it or you just won't get it.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">On the other hand, sometimes you will be blown away by the generosity and thoughtfulness of people with whom you're merely acquainted. The neighbor with no kids of her own may turn out to be your dinner-and-diapers-delivering postpartum angel. Never discount folks like her.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">Here's to 2012!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; font-family: georgia;">*<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Since big mommyblogger dooce and personal finance blogger JD Roth both just announced they're splitting with their spouses, I would like to note that I'd rather stay relatively broke and happy in my marriage than filthy rich and alone. Seems like it should be obvious, but it also seems like those people could afford marital counseling... </span></span><br /></p>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-32673005014705738022011-12-30T09:45:00.001-06:002011-12-30T16:23:25.017-06:00The Birthening, Part 1: Induction<span style="font-style: italic;">It's taken about two months to write this. Babies are a bit more work when they're out of the womb... and they're distractingly cute even when they're not being work. So I don't apologize for the delay. :-) </span><br /><br />I had had my usual appointment with the midwives on Thursday, October 13. At that appointment they had told me I should come in over the weekend to do a quick blood pressure check. I had initially agreed to Sunday, but the prospect of one last weekend at home, just me and DH, without a 2-hour round trip drive to the hospital, was much more appealing... so I called on Friday and said I would come in on Monday, the 17th.<br /><br />I went to work on Monday and had difficulty concentrating. I think, in the back of my mind, I knew I wasn't coming back in for a long time. Rather than spur me to productivity, though, the thought just made me listless. Since I'd already trained the part-time temp who was going to cover much of my job, I was mostly tying up small loose ends, anyway. I left a little early so I could take the el train to the hospital and be there by 4:00.<br /><br />When I got to the midwives' office, there was some confusion: apparently someone had written me down for a noon check-in, when I had explicitly told the person on the phone that I would be there at 4:00. So I ended up twiddling my thumbs in the waiting room for some extra time, telling myself to be calm.<br /><br />That was the whole problem with the blood pressure stuff: it got more tense each time I got checked, because I knew they would want to induce me, and I didn't want to be induced for a million reasons (including my sister's terrible failed induction/ c-section nightmare), so I had to stay calm. But telling yourself, "STAY CALM!" doesn't really, uh, work.<br /><br />Finally, I was called back to an exam room and a nurse checked my blood pressure. I tried so hard to take deep, slow breaths while she was doing it, but my heart was racing.<br /><br />150/80. Way too high.<br /><br />In the past, they'd let me sit for five minutes and check it again. I naively thought they would do this at this appointment, too. They were also planning a cervical check and everything, so I de-pantsed myself and sat in the room with that big paper sheet over my lap for a moment and then Midwife Amy came in. She did a cervical check and declared me completely closed.<br /><br />Here's where I was clearly just in denial: in my mind, what she told me ("completely closed") was that my body just isn't ready to have the baby yet, so they're going to send me home, tell me to relax, and they'll see me Thursday at my regular appointment.<br /><br />Amy didn't see it that way, and the tone of resolution in her voice made me break out in to a sweat. She was giving me two options: be admitted to the hospital right now, or go home and pack a bag and return with DH tonight. Being completely closed just meant they'd have to do more work to get me ripened up.<br /><br />I felt a little thick-headed: both options sounded like an induction would be starting within hours. But she just said my cervix is closed. After months of focusing on medication-free childbirth and hoping to let labor happen naturally - the whole reason I was working with midwives - this just puzzled me. At one point Amy said, "were we not clear that this was probably going to happen?" And I had to admit that, yes, they'd been talking induction for weeks. I just hadn't been listening.<br /><br />Of course, I was also alone. This was the only appointment throughout the course of my pregnancy when DH hadn't accompanied me. Amy let me get dressed and call him before I had to make a decision.<br /><br />My hands were shaking when I dialed home.<br /><br />I explained what the situation was, and we agreed that I would come home, we'd eat a little dinner and pack up, and we'd come in to the hospital that night.<br /><br />When Amy returned, I told her the situation, and she said she'd let Labor and Delivery know I was coming in. I explained how far we lived from the hospital and that it would likely be late - after 9:00pm - and she said that was fine.<br /><br />With that, I left. As I walked toward the train, looking down at my big pregnant belly, I told myself that this was a lucky thing - I was getting one last chance to be on my own before I have this baby. A little time to myself to think.<br /><br />In reality, I was scared and upset. This was all going wrong. I'd managed to carry a baby for 39+ weeks, but I was doing something wrong and now they're forcing the kid out when he's not ready. My hands were still shaking. I wanted a hug. (To be fair, Amy could see that: she gave me a big hug before I left and told me everything would be fine).<br /><br />So I called my parents.<br /><br />Parents of adult children: if your daughter calls you and says, with a nervous voice, that she's about to be induced, the first response you give should be "Are you OK? How are you feeling? Everything is going to be fine."<br /><br />Despite your overwhelming excitement about the impending birth of a new grandchild, your response should not be: "GREAT! We're getting in the car RIGHT AWAY!" Which is precisely what my mother said.<br /><br />My mother's enthusiasm didn't help. I was fighting a lump in my throat, and now I had to tell her to cool her jets, I'm completely closed, this is going to take a long time, et cetera. I had expected that she would remember how long my sister was in the hospital during her induction before they finally pulled my niece out via c-section, but apparently all that stuff about forgetting labor extends to grandmothers, too.<br /><br />I don't blame her for being excited, of course. I just wouldn't have minded some reassurance. But she'd never been induced, anyway, and the one time she was threatened with it she was 42 weeks pregnant and it was a very hot August and she was SO DONE with being pregnant. I had not yet reached that point.<br /><br />My parents insisted they would be leaving after dinner to drive halfway to Chicago (this panicked me. In hindsight, I shouldn't have called them until at least 24 hours later, or maybe even until after the kid was born).<br /><br />My next call was to my brother, who had told me weeks earlier that he was keeping his phone by his side 24/7 in case I needed anything in the last days of pregnancy. His response was pretty much exactly what I needed to hear. He started with "Is everything OK? How do you feel about this? Is there anything you need?"<br /><br />As my sister has said, our brother is rare among men. He absolutely loves being an uncle and was very excited about meeting his nephew, but he didn't let that get in the way of taking care of his lil' sister.<br /><br />By the time I finished talking with my brother, I was on the el train, and I didn't want to be discussing the state of my cervix within the hearing of train strangers, so I moved to texting people: first my sister, then a few close friends and one co-worker. The slow process of sending text messages on my clunky phone helped distract me from the sweat that was developing in my armpits. As encouraging/excited responses trickled in, they helped me feel a little better.<br /><br />I was on the train over an hour: first the brown line, then the green line. It felt like a year. I felt alone, detached from all the people around me in a completely different way than the usual commute. I wondered if they could tell what was about to happen to me.<br /><br />When I called DH and told him I was almost home, he suggested he'd order a pizza for delivery, and then he would come meet me at my train stop. That sounded good to me.<br /><br />When I finally got off the train and saw him walking toward me, I kind of started to lose it - I realized I'd been mostly keeping my cool in public but was really, truly freaked out. As he came closer, I started to cry. He gave me a hug and we walked through the dark together to our home, our last time doing something like this without worrying about the kid.<br /><br />Once I was at home, my sister called. She, also, was very reassuring, and told me that her induction had been earlier in her pregnancy and it was really unusual, and that mine would go much more smoothly, and a million other kind things. I was gathering up things to pack while she talked to me, and then DH started badgering me about cash for the pizza delivery while I was still on the phone with my sister, and then my sister started asking about when she could visit in January, and I felt myself starting to crack: "You know, we still have to get packed up for the hospital, it's a little crazy here right now..." I was starting to cry again.<br /><br />I got off the phone with my sister, and I - proud moment here - screamed at DH. But seriously, I felt like I was about to cede all control of my body and our baby to a bunch of doctors, and he can't get eighteen f***ing dollars together? And he didn't so much as wash a dish while I was trapped on the train, even though he knew we'd be in the hospital for days? I was pissed. Then it turned out I didn't have enough cash, and I really lost it. The stupid pizza was supposed to simplify things, and now I could feel my blood pressure going through the roof, and it was clear that I had to fix the situation even though my brain couldn't handle anything additional at that point. I told DH to call the pizza place and give them our debit card number, which for some reason he thought wasn't possible.<br /><br />He called. It worked. We got our pizza. Things went a little better once we ate something.<br /><br />We packed up the bag, and headed out in to the October evening, late enough that traffic wasn't bad.<br /><br />We got to the hospital around 9:30pm - after hours, so we had to press a special button to be admitted to the main doors by some remote security person who buzzed us in. We carried all our stuff up to Labor and Delivery, and between the two of us we looked like we had planned to spend a month: we had bags of snacks and drinks, my body pillow, a laptop, and a million other things.<br /><br />When we got to the secure L&amp;D doors, I picked up the phone on the wall and said, "we're here for an induction", and they let us right in, no questions asked.<br /><br />We schlepped up to the nurse's station with all our bags. The nurse at the desk did not inspire confidence: she acted like she had no clue who the hell we were. I had to repeat my name several times, and repeat that I was with the midwives, and it was an induction, over and over again. I was so ready to bolt back out the door at that point. Had I known what the next few days would be like, I probably would have. Finally, the nurse (who still kind of looked like she was just making things up) admitted us to L&amp;D room 311.<br /><br />I thought to myself, "this is where it's all going to happen. I'm going to meet my son in this room."<br /><br />I changed in to a hospital gown and climbed on to the hospital bed. Another nurse came in and gave me an IV hep-lock and a hospital bracelet, and hooked me up to the continuous fetal heart rate monitor. The kiddo's heartbeat was nice and steady. Since I was going to be on medication, I had to have the monitor on all the time. Fortunately, I could still walk around: if I had to wander further than a few feet from the bed, I could just unhook the monitors, toss the cords behind my neck, and walk over to the bathroom or whatever. I was pretty happy about that.<br /><br />Then Midwife Kim came in and talked with me for a while about the next steps: I'd have a dose of Cervadil that would stay in for 12 hours, then they would assess me. If I wasn't quite ripe yet, they'd give me another 12-hour dose of Cervadil. After that, Pitocin. She told me that sometimes, Cervadil is enough to just get things rolling on their own. I hoped for that outcome, because I'd heard some bad things about Pitocin.<br /><br />She then gave me the first dose of Cervadil, which is a suppository-type thing that gets inserted in to the cervix. Oh lordy, was that unpleasant. I knew Kim to be pretty skilled when she has to deal with the nether-regions, so I think Cervadil just kind of hurts. Once it was in, though, I couldn't really feel it.<br /><br />Around 11:00pm, we settled in for the night. DH pulled out the chair-bed thing in the room and put on some pajamas, and I reclined my hospital bed. We turned down the volume on the fetal heart rate monitor, turned down the lights, and waited for things to get started.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-9918255337246437762011-12-13T22:20:00.005-06:002011-12-16T23:01:13.459-06:00Boob Juice: the situation so farOne of the reasons I haven't finished the birth story is that my hands have been full, in a very real sense, with feeding this baby. With the exception of three days, my 8-week-old son has been fed only breast milk, and he's thriving: he's over 12 pounds now, and is big and strong (95th percentile for length! And he can already roll over! And... I'll stop. But I'm very proud of him). After the first five days of his life, my milk supply has kept up with his demand pretty well; the "girls" are producing plenty to keep him fed.<br /><br />Easy peasy, then, right?<br /><br />Not exactly.<br /><br />About two weeks ago, as I was struggling through yet another excruciatingly painful nursing session, I was composing a blog post in my head entitled, "Breastfeeding is An Enormous Pain in the Ass". I felt duped, and I felt like there was no getting out of the hell I'd gotten myself in to: my child was thriving on my plentiful milk, but I was crying at the end of (and sometimes the start of) each nursing session. This was clearly great for him and awful for me. Everyone had told me that the first two to three weeks would be difficult, but things shifted from challenging (i.e., figuring out the mechanics of nursing a new baby) to painful after those three weeks. I kept thinking I needed to tough it out, or maybe I was just more tender because I had a big, strong baby who liked to eat in gulps, or maybe I was doing something wrong... it all boiled down to something being flawed with me, or with my approach. I just had to figure out what it was.<br /><br />Thanksgiving week was when it finally hit the fan; when I was sobbing in bed while my son was contentedly nursing. I was sobbing for two reasons:<br /><br />A) The unending, burning, stabbing pain while my son nursed, and<br /><br />B) The need to stock up on milk so I could go shopping with my mother that Saturday.<br /><br />Item B is probably the topic for a separate post about difficulties with my family and their growing tendency to ignore my needs, but it did mean that I was pumping milk after each nursing session, trying to glean enough extra so I could spend precious hours away from my month-old son, shlepping around in a crowded shopping mall during Black Friday weekend. This was creating additional stress for me, which wasn't helped by item A: pain.<br /><br />DH made the suggestion, while I was weeping, that I just start pumping until I could figure out what was going on. We had both given up on what we thought were La Leche League lies ("breastfeeding should never hurt!"), but he offered that perhaps it shouldn't actually hurt this much. And pumping was less painful.<br /><br />The Sunday after Turkey Day I began exclusively pumping, and our baby started getting all his milk from bottles. (Side note: He is so easygoing. As long as there's milk, he doesn't care where it's coming from. I love this kid.) While I pumped, I Googled things like "agonizing pain while breastfeeding". And I learned a few things:<br /><br />First, I learned that, while "breastfeeding should never hurt", it often does, especially in the early weeks. I found a message board of women describing the pain when their babies initially latch on as being equal to or worse than labor pains - and I nodded in agreement. And while I was told to expect "discomfort" for 2-3 weeks, several of these women said it took two to three MONTHS before that latch-on pain dissipated.<br /><br />And by "latch-on pain", I mean take-your-breath-away, toe-curling, 9 on a scale of 1 to 10 pain.<br /><br />Second, I learned that, though it can (and often does) hurt to start with, what should never happen while breastfeeding is a burning feeling, like the intense burn I would have for about 30 minutes after each feeding. That's a sign of a problem. Other chest-area problem signs I had: urgent itching during a nursing session, occasional shooting pains at any time, and, yes, pain intense enough that I cried while feeding my son.<br /><br />Dr. Google told me I might have thrush, which hadn't occurred to me. OK, it had, but I kept checking my baby's mouth and he had none of the fuzzy white spots I knew to look for, and he never acted irritated when he nursed. If he didn't have thrush, how could I have it?<br /><br />That Monday, I relayed my concerns to our pediatrician at the kiddo's one-month appointment. The doctor checked him carefully and told me she saw no signs of thrush in him, but it was possible - especially if I'd been given antibiotics and he hadn't - that I had thrush but hadn't transmitted it to the baby. She suggested I use Lotrimin (yes, the athlete's foot medicine) 3 or 4 times a day and see if that helped.<br /><br />She also did what all the health professionals do, and complimented me on my milk supply. Thanks, but I would enjoy being able to give the milk to my child without the delivery of said liquid being such an issue.<br /><br />After a couple of days of only pumping and using Lotrimin, I didn't feel like things had improved markedly - I was crying less, but only because I wasn't nursing. And I was sad about not nursing.<br /><br />Also, all the dealing with bottles and the pump actually created a lot of friction between me and DH: when I exclusively nursed, I just took charge of the kid for an hour at a time, no fuss, no muss. I was forced to put my feet up and DH had some time to do what he wanted. With the exclusive bottle feeding, DH would feed him while I pumped, or else I would feed and burp the baby and then hand him over to DH so I could then pump... and then one of us would have to wash all the pump parts and bottle apparatus every day or so. It was a huge hassle, and felt like way more work for both of us.<br /><br />So on that Wednesday I did what I should have done probably two weeks earlier: I called the midwife's office. The triage nurse who talked with me was awesome - she immediately made it clear that I shouldn't be in this kind of pain, and she made me feel, for the first time in a long time, that I wasn't inherently flawed or doing anything wrong. After a couple of conversations with her, I had a prescription waiting for me at a local pharmacy: two doses of Diflucan and a tub of All-Purpose Nipple Ointment. I'd heard of APNO several times, and it kind of sounded like a wonder treatment. Diflucan was referred to in a lot of the search results I found when I Googled around about thrush.<br /><br />The nurse also told me that as soon as things stopped hurting terribly, I should get back to nursing the kiddo - there wasn't a big concern about giving him the thrush.<br /><br />So a third thing I learned is something plenty of people have told me: ASK FOR HELP. If something hurts? Ask for help. If you feel like something's just not right? Ask for help! If you're crying while you're feeding your kid? Ask. For. Help. Or clarification, at least. I got really invested in toughing it out when what I needed was a prescription.<br /><br />And a fourth thing: if you're sore (and if you're nursing, you will be, especially if you give birth to a mini-Hoover like my son), use these <a href="http://www.amazon.com/SoftShells-Breast-Shell-Soothers-Nipples/dp/B000058DPN">Soft Shells</a>. They were recommended to me by a new-mom friend of mine and they work beautifully. Between these and my prescription ointment I started healing noticeably in a couple of days.<br /><br />We're up to the point now that I'm nursing the kiddo about half-time, and the other half of his feedings he's getting bottles of pumped milk. In the last couple of days, I've had several nursing sessions when latch-on pain was minimal, and the rest of the feeding was essentially pain-free. It's amazing, and I think I can see where this is going: I'm back to hoping I'll be able to breastfeed this kid for a solid year, whereas a few weeks ago 12 months sounded like a lifetime of pain and suffering.<br /><br />When it doesn't hurt, I have to say that nursing a baby is pretty awesome, in the true sense of the word. I gestated this baby, and now I'm still sustaining him with my body. I love the snuggle time that is guaranteed during a nursing session, and generally extends for a while afterward when I'm burping him and he dozes off on my chest, content with a full tummy. Nursing can certainly feel like the best kind of tender loving care a mother can give to her child.<br /><br />But while I already stated for the record that I would be completely fine with some formula supplementation - which is exactly what we ended up doing in the first few days of his life, when he had jaundice, my milk hadn't yet come in, and he needed to poop out that bilirubin - I will now say, after two months, that I certainly don't blame women who don't stick with breastfeeding. If I hadn't had two solid months off work and a spouse who was home with me full-time and a health care professional who was extremely supportive, I don't think I could have weathered the learning curve. Of course now I know I had some issues that were unaddressed for too long (ASK! FOR! HELP!), so my case was probably not typical.<br /><br />So, yes, so far we're exclusively breastfeeding, and as we come to the 2-month point I anticipate that will continue to be the case. But just because it's "natural" does NOT mean it's easy, not in the first two months, at least. I'm becoming convinced that anyone who says it is must be trying to sell you something.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-10102921368876824652011-11-23T21:14:00.003-06:002011-11-23T21:47:04.955-06:00ThanksgivingYes, I'm still writing out the birth story, and it's three parts so far, and maybe I'll finish it or maybe it will stay an unfinished tale like that triathlon I never wrote about (the short story on that: it was fun. And now that I've given birth, it's no longer the toughest physical thing I've done).<br /><br />But it's hard to fit in any writing - or anything - with a baby around. Yes, even though he sleeps approximately 16 hours a day, according to the books. And yes, even though DH and I are both home full-time together during leave. And, yeah, even though right now the kid only needs about three things in rotation: milk, diaper change, sleep. You'd think a couple of people with graduate degrees could manage that AND getting the dishes washed in the same day, but you'd mostly be wrong. So creative pursuits are not getting the attention they may have otherwise.<br /><br />I'm not complaining, though. Despite fatigue and occasional frustration (it's a weird frustration, too - I'm frustrated for... getting frustrated. Like I should be able to handle it when the kid has a full tummy, a dry diaper and a comfy place to sleep and is screaming his head off at me for no apparent reason. DH reminded me that it might be normal to find that frustrating).<br /><br />Last Thanksgiving I honestly wasn't even thinking about having a kid. When I realize just how quickly we shifted from "not yet" to "why not?" with the baby question, it's a little stunning. This time last year I was not only not pregnant, I didn't think I'd be having a baby any time soon. Certainly not while still in my 20s, anyway.<br /><br />But our minds changed, and then we got ridiculously, stupidly lucky and I was pregnant much sooner than I dared to hope I would be, and here it is, Thanksgiving, and we have a one-month-old son. And holy crap, people, he is cute. He's starting to smile sometimes, and use his voice - he likes to say "ow", very cheerfully, sometimes very loudly in the middle of the night when I'm burping him and DH is trying to sleep - and he reacts to different voices in the room, and he's starting to see things like the shapes of the mobile that hangs over his changing table. He's also growing like crazy, and we're pretty sure he'll weigh over 12 pounds at his one-month pediatrician appointment.<br /><br />So, clearly, there's a lot to be thankful for here:<br /><br />We have a beautiful, healthy son, and somehow we've picked up the basics of this parenting gig without freaking out so far. (The very short list of needs he has is helpful). Also, let me repeat: he's beautiful. The whole time I was pregnant I was prepared for a weird-looking kid, because we're a little weird looking, ourselves. And then he was born, and... wow. He's objectively cute. I spend a lot of time staring at him and feeling amazed.<br /><br />I'm healing up and feeling more like a human (OK, most of me... my "girls" are still feeling a bit battered - the kid's massive weight gain is all due to mother's milk. This kiddo inherited the appetite enjoyed by both his parents. This is great for his sleep, but tough on my mammaries). I can do things like take long walks outside now, so I don't feel like an invalid like I did the first couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to being cleared to do things like jogging and lifting things that are bigger than the baby (though, hey, he's big enough that I'm less limited all the time!).<br /><br />We're surrounded by supportive family, friends and neighbors who have been fantastic about stopping by with meals, calling and e-mailing to see if we need anything, and appropriately fawning over our beautiful baby.<br /><br />With the extra leave due to my c-section and the timing of winter break at my work, my maternity leave is basically 11 weeks long, which is awesome.<br /><br />We have health insurance. I seriously don't know what we would have done without it, because according to the statements I've gotten in the mail so far, our week in the hospital cost $35,000. Do what?<br /><br />We live in a friendly neighborhood, full of folks who will strike up a conversation with a couple walking around with a baby. We're still not used to it, but I like the surprise each time.<br /><br />And... well, I'm sure there are things I'm missing. But that's sleep deprivation for you. I hope all three of you readers out there have a beautiful holiday. We'll get to see a whole lot of both of our families, with a minimum of travel on our behalf, which is wonderful.<br /><br />Happy Thanksgiving!Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-74123246530805968222011-10-27T11:16:00.004-05:002011-10-27T14:15:37.778-05:00The Birthening: the prologueOver the last several years, I have read many, many birth stories, and I know that there is often an unexpected thing that happens during labor and delivery. Birth plans are just plans, and they need to be flexible. My whole approach to labor took that in to account: we took a childbirth class focused on unmedicated childbirth, but I was clear with DH that if things took a long time and I needed to conserve my energy, I was open to the idea of some pain relief that would help me rest.<br /><br />We didn't even write out a birth plan, actually: we talked the whole enterprise over with the midwives, and everything that really mattered to me was just standard operating procedure. The most crucial aspects of any plan we would have written were the moments just after birth: I wanted immediate skin-to-skin contact with my baby, I wanted the team to wait until his cord had finished pulsing before it was cut, I wanted to try breastfeeding before they gave him any shots or weighed and measured him. The midwife said this is all standard - we would need to write out a special request NOT to have these things happen.<br /><br />Well, none of those things happened. My son was born in a freezing operating room, via caesarian section, after a failed induction that took over two days. I didn't get to touch him for almost 4 hours except for a quick kiss on the cheek before they whisked him away to the nursery while I was sutured up and rolled back to a recovery room, without him. DH spent some time in the middle of the night pacing the hall between his post-operative wife, his baby in the special care nursery, and all his in-laws in the waiting room, waiting for news. The final process looked nothing like our general plans.<br /><br />I am 100% OK with all of this.<br /><br />I used to think that the people who had experiences like mine who said things like "at the end of the day, I have a healthy baby and that's all that matters" were just making themselves feel better about a situation over which they lost control. Maybe they were, but I seriously feel good about the way my son's birth panned out. He's huge and healthy and beautiful, and I never felt like I had lost what small amount of control I ever had over the process. It's just that the plan had to be even more flexible than we realized.<br /><br />In part because I feel like I owe it to all the bloggers who shared their birth stories, and in part because now, only a week later, certain details are already starting to elude me, I'm planning to write out my son's birth story. It will likely take a little time between feedings (oh man, does this kid like to eat) and naps (his and mine), but I'd like to write it down. Because what happened was basically my nightmare scenario, but it wasn't terrifying at all. Through the whole process, which lasted over three days, I felt supported and listened to, and I felt like all the options were being laid out fairly to me and DH.<br /><br />And, yes, at the end we have a healthy baby. I think I had to grow up a little and realize that seriously? That is the point of this whole thing.<br /><br />Before I get in to the long story, however, here are the details: the kiddo (sorry interwebs, you don't get his real name) was born at 1:48am on Thursday, October 20. He was 21.25 inches long and weighed 8 pounds, 15 ounces. The midwife on call noted that this was after he pooped several times immediately after delivery, so she insisted that he was at least a nine-pound baby. And yes, his size was part of the reason we ended up in the operating room.<br /><br />Oh, and we love him to bits and pieces. I'll have to write a separate post about how my feelings toward newborns have changed, because this particular newborn is just the tops.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-92135322582788213652011-10-17T11:30:00.002-05:002011-10-17T11:30:01.494-05:0039 weeks<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">OK, this really may be the last weekly pregnancy update. The midwives have continued to be nervous about my blood pressure and they're indicating that they won't let me go past 40 weeks, and may try to induce me sooner than that. Since, as I type this, I'm at 39 weeks, 3 days, that means - urp - some time in the next 4 days I may be delivering this kid. Am I ready for that? Is anyone ever ready for this? I'm huge and kind of uncomfortable, and I'm looking forward to meeting the little guy, but I just spent one last, relaxed autumn Sunday hanging out with DH and soaking up some just-the-two-of-us time, and it made me feel a little melancholy that I'm about to give that up. DH likes to say we're just adding someone else to the party, and I'm sure he's right (and I'm sure the second I see him holding our son I'm going to melt into a puddle), but after five-plus years of sharing my home life with just DH, I know it's going to be a serious adjustment for me. Not a bad thing, just a big change. <span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span></span><b><br /><br />Weight Gain: </b>35 pounds! I lost a pound over the last week. Meanwhile, my belly got bigger, so I'm thinking we're in a magical phase wherein I transfer my weight to the tot. Maybe I should stay pregnant for three more weeks? Is that the best weight loss plan ever? Probably not.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Symptoms: </b> Achey hips, occasional shortness of breath, bizarre hunger cues (I didn't want to eat much of anything Saturday, then I was STARVING ALL DAY Sunday). And - get this - contractions. Only a few, on Friday night, but they felt like menstrual cramps that started low down and moved slowly up my abdomen. It's bizarre to feel excited about pain, but as DH pointed out, the whole pregnancy enterprise involves feeling positive about crappy symptoms (early on it's "I want to puke... yayyy!"). Also, I know I could have on and off contractions for, like, weeks, but I still take it as a hopeful sign.<br /><br />Happily, my belly button is still just weirdly flat. I feel blessed that it hasn't yet popped out, like a turkey timer. Maybe we'll manage to avoid that...?<br /></div><br /></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cravings/Aversions:</span> All over the place, and kind of unpredictable. I'm thinking my system must be getting ready for some action, because my relationship with food is becoming weird. There's a little of the first trimester "I need to eat and I feel bad because I haven't but nothing sounds good" feeling, but then eating almost anything is generally delightful (except on Saturday when food was mostly a chore).<br /><br /><b>I am loving: </b>How unavoidably huge I am. People just stare. And sometimes make comments. One woman just laughed at me. I wonder what people do to women who manage to make it to 42 weeks? <b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I miss: </b>Oh, the usual stuff: especially rolling over in bed without it being a major chore. My hips feel like they're going to dislocate in the middle of the night these days.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I'm looking forward to: </b>Meeting him! Maybe soon! We got a bunch of hand-me-down clothes from one of DH's cousins over the weekend, and since they'd been in storage for a while I washed all the newborn-to-6 month size stuff. Folding up the tiny sweaters and snuggly little pajamas was really fun, and I am geeked about finally putting a little person in to these outfits and cuddling up with him when it's cold outside.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I'm concerned about:</b> <span><span>How it's all going to go down, delivery-wise. I have no choice but to go with the flow (OK, I guess the other choice is to panic... but that doesn't help anything) and hope - and work for - the best delivery possible. I got to have a nice long chat with my friend who had an emergency c-section 10 days ago, and she's rooting for me to have a natural birth so she can live vicariously through me. I hope I can come through for her! But whatever gets this little guy out in to the world safe and sound is good to me. </span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Milestones: </b>Little dude is "watermelon sized". And his mother is Sherman Tank sized. :-) <b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Movement: </b>Still good. I got hooked up to a fetal monitor for 20 minutes on Thursday, and they wanted him to move twice in that time - which he did - and they wanted his heart rate to accelerate appropriately when he moved - which it did. So he's already passing tests! I'm proud.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br />Exercise: </b>OK, mostly walking and puttering around the house. I've been sitting almost exclusively on my yoga balance ball at work, too, which is its own low-key exercise (and makes my hips feel like they're dislocating... but that's kind of all the time these days).<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep:</span><span> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; ">Still pretty good, especially considering what I hear from other moms about how they just DID NOT SLEEP the last weeks of pregnancy. I'm getting at least 6 hours a night, and usually closer to 8. The kid is definitely down in my pelvis, though, because when I get up to pee at night it is a desperate and painful need to make it to the bathroom in time, not just kind of urgent like it used to be. <b><br /><br /></b></span></span></span><b>Diet: </b>Mostly OK. Saturday was kind of a wash, as I had a big basket of fried stuff when DH's family took us out to lunch and then I felt crummy for much of the rest of the day. Otherwise I've been much better, and have been tending toward spicy foods, just in case that home induction remedy works.<br /></div></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Something nice: </b>Most people, in most places, are just really nice to someone who's as huge-pregnant as I am. And most of them smile at me. I appreciate that.<br /></div></span></span></span>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-85854355553369234812011-10-10T12:30:00.003-05:002011-10-10T13:48:08.078-05:0038 weeks<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; ">Though I know this can change at any moment, the little guy has shown no signs of making his appearance any time too soon. On the other hand, there's a full moon this week, so... will this be the last weekly update? Time will tell... <b><br /><br />Weight Gain: </b>According to the midwife, 36 pounds! Yikes. I'm gaining over 2 pounds a week lately, which is TOO MUCH.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Symptoms: </b> Is "I can't say no to food" a symptom? I don't know. Otherwise, I'm big, my right hip occasionally hurts, I've started to have some really lovely crotch pain (sorry, TMI? It seriously feels like I got kicked down there sometimes), and my lower back is achey by the end of the day. So basically I've gained 36 pounds in a few months and my body is reacting appropriately. Oh, I also have cankles. This is what I get for being all smug a few weeks ago, when I thought I'd made it through the summer unscathed. Seriously, though, these are all minor, and - except for the cankles - none of them are constant. I still feel like it's been smooth going for this whole pregnancy.<br /></div><br /></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cravings/Aversions:</span> I seriously want to eat everything. OK, except the canned mushrooms. But everything else.<br /><br /><b>I am loving: </b>That the midwife at my last appointment took all the data points seriously and didn't order another 24-hour urine screen. We bought another week! And she was even asking us what our plan will be if I go over 41 weeks, so the specter of induction seems to be receding, which is fantastic. <b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I miss: </b>Having a pregnant buddy. My friend who was due 4 days after me had an emergency c-section on Thursday. She had a boy, which means we're both raising sons, which is exciting, but we both really expected me to go first - she was talking about trying to hold out until November, actually. The circumstances for her were a little scary, and pretty sudden, but mom and baby are both fortunately doing fine now.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I'm looking forward to: </b>the return of cooler fall weather this week.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br /></b></div></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px;"><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>I'm concerned about:</b> When this is on my list of "concerns", I've got it easy: some of my maternity shirts are getting to be too short, and they're riding up in the front, exposing either my bare belly or the big elastic band of my pants. If I go to something like 41 weeks, WHAT WILL I WEAR?? I may need to get a pair of maternity leggings so I can just wear all my dresses as shirts. <span><span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Milestones: </b>I asked the midwife how big she thought this baby is, and she said his head seems about 7-pounder sized, but that he might be faking her out because he seems really long. So... lanky baby? But also: seven pounds already?? Yikes. Also, he's been head-down for several weeks now, which is great. <b><br /></b></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Movement: </b>Much of the same. If I drink something cold or have something to eat, his foot is all up in my rib. I'd yell at him but I really don't think he has a lot of options for where to put his feet these days. Also, he doesn't allow me to slouch. If I lean forward too much he gets very kicky.<br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b><br />Exercise: </b>Improving. One insight we gained from the midwife appointment was that, even though I thought I was drinking plenty of water, I actually wasn't. I upped my hydration and a lot of the crampy feelings I was getting on our walks basically disappeared. DUH. So now we're back to taking LONG walks, which feels great.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Sleep: </span>Holding steady. I never thought I'd just get used to waking up between 3 and 4 AM to waddle to the bathroom, but I do it every night now. I'm generally able to get back to sleep after not too long, and I think this is helped by the longer walks. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><b><br /><br /></b></span></span></span><b>Diet: </b>Also improving. Something about being over 36 pounds on my weight gain shocked me in to realizing that "occasional sweets" does not mean three desserts in the same day. So... occasional. And I'm eating more fruits and veggies.<br /></div></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 20px; "><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><br /></div><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "><b>Something nice: </b>DH's adorable baby cousin got baptized this weekend, so we went to the service and the family lunch gathering afterward. This baby is so amazingly chill: she loves to eat, she's a good sleeper, and when she's awake she's content as long as she has a good view of the room. Every time DH and I are around her we both rub my belly and tell our kid to be just like his cousin. I hope that works.<br /><br />DH's whole family is pretty excited about the little dude. His aunt found a bunch of clothes at a consignment sale that everyone has been telling me about: I haven't seen them yet, but there's a rumor of a sweater vest, and oh how I love a baby in a sweater vest. His family is also going to lend us a swing and buy me a breastfeeding pillow - two things I hadn't yet gotten that I really want to have. This kid is lucky! OK... so am I.<br /><br />Also: over the weekend we stocked up on pantry goods. We have enough laundry detergent, canned goods and boxed mac n cheese to survive the apocalypse. It does help ease my mind, knowing that we can live for weeks (that's probably not an exaggeration) without going to the grocery store, since I'm anticipating a few weeks of complete brain-dead sleep deprivation at the start there. If I get my act together in the next few days I'm going to make a few meals to freeze, since there are still a few square inches of open freezer space in our kitchen, and we can't have that, can we? Does this count as nesting? I think it may.<br /><br />Finally: several folks have asked me when I'm due, and then have guessed: "in a month?" Then they're all surprised when I tell them two weeks. So I just passed an invisible threshold of somehow looking <span style="font-style: italic;">less </span>pregnant than I actually am. I have no clue how these things work.<br /><br />Oh, and as a bonus: did you hear about <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/local/breaking/chi-photo-finish-woman-gives-birth-after-running-and-walking-marathon-20111010,0,7434614.story">the woman who ran the Chicago Marathon</a> at "nearly 39 weeks" pregnant, went in to labor DURING THE RACE, finished, grabbed a bite to eat, then went to the hospital and had her baby? Thanks for making us all feel like slackers, lady!! I stopped running at something like 10 weeks!<br /></div></span></span></span>Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2287881245795650810.post-43849982017892191912011-10-06T11:30:00.000-05:002011-10-06T15:30:00.332-05:00Fall harvestI don't regularly check in on <a href="http://blog.cjanerun.com/">CJane</a>'s blog, so I didn't realize she was pregnant again until she was, like, <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>pregnant. But this post she put up last week made me nod:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:x-large;">"<span style="font-size:100%;">Good bye September</span>.</span><br />It's a curious thing to have a body on the same fertile cycle as Mother Earth.When I see the heavy apples on the tree in the backyard, hanging on for one more month of perfect ripeness, I feel my position. When I see my face in this photograph I also see the roundness, the readiness of a harvest of a different kind.<br />September, we're glowing."<br /><br />And she is, round-faced and glowing in the picture.<br /><br />As I've been waddling around in search of tasty pumpkin delicacies, I agree with her that it's curious to feel rather pumpkin-like, myself, in the autumn. Curious and kind of fun. I've always loved October, and now I think I will love it even more, because (unless I go really overdue) it's the month when I get to meet my son.<br /><br />I've heard that it's best to have babies in the spring, so one can do all the gestating and nesting when it's cold outside, and that always made sense to me. But this year I'm enjoying this affinity with apple trees and squash plants, and I'm looking forward to what this autumn will bring us.Schmeihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06943194042883662169noreply@blogger.com0